The Wizarding Chronicles : Return of the True Descendant
by Arcturus Peverell
Summary: During the Time before, the Slytherin family was one of the ruling families of Magical Britain. What happens when the True heir to Slytherin returns? Ancient magick, AU. Concepts from Merlin. (Now Book 2 in progress) Slytherin! Harry, Powerful! Harry. Harry/Daphne.
1. ROTD 01 : An Ancient Lore

**_### Disclaimer : Harry Potter universe belongs to J.k. Rowling. I'm merely playing in her sandbox._**

 _No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny. He cannot glimpse his part in the great story that is about to unfold. Like everyone, he must live and love. So had happened in a time of myth and magic, the destiny of a great nation of Wizarding Britain fell on the shoulders of a young sorcerer._

 _His name..._

 _Harry Potter._

A long time ago, in a time of magic, there existed a human world extraordinarily different from what it is now. A time when magical and non-magical people lived and prospered together. A time when Magical Britain existed under another name... Albion. A nation that lived and thrived under the patronage of the royal family of Pendragon and their chief advisor and family friend, Myrrdin Emrys.

It was a time when magic ran wild, when Magic was one and unsurpassed, worshipped as a deity and used as a tool simultaneously, for the welfare of one and all. A time which saw the rise of wonderful gifts in wizards, leading to formation of different classes and types amongst the general wizarding community. Wandmasters, Chaoticians, Raw wizards, Healers, Sorcerers, Necromancers, Elementals, DragonLords, Warmages and the like. A time when Myrrdin Emrys, the first DragonLord of the magical nation of Albion established rules that protected the integrity and sovereignty of magic.

After the war with the Saxons, the magical world had fallen prey to greed and prejudice of the mundane realms, and so around two hundred years after the battle of Camlann, the ancient magical families used their magicks to power up an immensely powerful form of what later came to be developed as the _Fidelius_ Charm, an esoteric spell which preserves a secret inside the soul of a person. Until said person (so termed secret-keeper) intentionally disclosed the secret to anyone else, the secret and the object of the secret would simply be forgotten by the rest of the world. The problem lay in tweaking the charm so that the entire magical world could serve as secret-keepers. It was necessary for more often than not, the mundane people would often give birth to witches and wizards, and a system was required that could somehow preserve the secrecy of the magical world while still enabling the magical realm to communicate and enter the mundane world without disclosing the secret out. Thus, the Statute of Secrecy was born. The problem was, no wand wizard, chaotician, or any other mage had enough power and magical ability required to power up this kind of spell. But something had to be done, and needed to be done very soon. The mundane empires were regularly attacking wizarding settlements, trying to capture magical people and force them to do their bidding, and if not successful, to kill them by their witch-burning policies. While wizards were generally powerful enough, the sneaky tactics and gross numerical strength of the mundane armies often overpowered them.

Those were dangerous times, and such desperate times always call for desperate measures. People were disappearing and more often than not, there would be news of rampage done in wizarding settlements. The fear was high in the minds of the wizards, who were generally peace-loving in nature, not much different than the high elves of old. There was one alternative to the power problem, however it was the only one— Sacrificial magic. Together, the council of the seven Ancient ruling families performed a ritual to enact such a ritual, a Fidelius spell of such enormous and fearsome power, that the secret of the wizarding world would permanently vanish away from the mundane realms. Sacrificial magic in essence, could be explained in eight simple yet powerful words... _As I will it, so mote it be._

The raw magic that created and sustained the universe would listen to the call, and manifest the desires of the caller into reality. However, nothing is free and certainly not in this case. The person demanding a manifestation had to offer something magically equal in return, else the manifestation would remain undone and the raw magic would scorch their lands in its wrath, and that was exactly what made sacrificial magic so scary.

When the ancient family priests conducted the ritual, Magick demanded the ancient bloodline abilities away in return for the manifestation. The ancient abilities would vanish, only to resurface only when the world needed it most. The solution was there, the world needed it, and the ancient families paid the price. A very, costly price.

There were no more DragonLords, no more Chaoticians, no more Warmages or any other specialist of the magical arts. The magical world became a dominion of the wand-wielder. Magic was no longer a free entity, it became bound into spells and incantations, wand movements that changed the flow of magic from its inherent nature to a fixed regulated stream. Raw magic was limited to basic accidental magic of infants, and that too before said infant laid a hand on a wand.

Like all good things must come to an end, so did the beautiful world of Albion come to an end. Corruption set in, and bigotry and prejudice pervaded. The average wand-wielder became the lord and master of the magical realm, while the rare magical breed was shifted to the fringes. What was once a settlement where all magical creatures, wizards, and mages of all forms resided together, became the birthplace of what would turn into the bigoted world where Goblins, Centaurs, Mermen, Magical creatures and Creature-born were persecuted and treated as inferior mindless beasts. Said creatures joined the fringes of the society while some like Goblins and Dwarves integrated as a side wing of the new magical society. Goblins and Dwarves established financial and metallurgical institutions and thrived alongside the wizard society. Even then, there was a lot of prejudice in the minds of wizards against such creatures. Magical historians often wrote about such wars and battles with extreme detail, but as the saying goes, when history is written, murderers are heroes. Thus, even wizarding history became mothing more than a biased account of what might have actually happened. The Goblins and Dwarves awaited for their sovereignty, the other creatures wished for their independence, the centaurs foresaw an age when the bloodlines would return and the age of Albion would set in again... And they waited, and waited.

And waited.

The bloodline abilities never returned.

 **###This is an alternative approach to my previous story - The true Descendant. I know I suddenly removed out the entire story all of a sudden, and I apologize for that. However, I have decided on an alternate, better version of my story( with longer chapters this time)**

 **###I know I named a lot of different wizard types like Warmages, Chaoticians and the type. Those will be explained later in the story.**

 **### So read and review! I shall soon be posting a LOT of chapters!** **Thanks.** **Arcturus Peverell.**


	2. ROTD 02 : A new Beginning

"So I _should_ be in Slytherin," Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's face. "The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it —"

"Put you in Gryffindor," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue, resourcefulness, determination, a certain disregard for rules", he added, his mustache quivering again. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Gryffindor," said Harry in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin..."

" _Exactly,_ " said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you _very different_ from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned. "If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at _this._ "

Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall's desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.

 ** _Godric Gryffindor._**

"Only a true Gryffindor could pull that sword out of the hat", Dumbledore finished.

 _So I belonged to Slytherin, just that I asked to be put in Gryffindor..._

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke up and started getting ready for the day's classes. The last night's feast had been quite an ostentatious one, and he was very glad that Hermione and the rest were restored to health by the Mandrake potions. But there was this one thing still buzzing around his mind, his distracted mood well visible to anyone who could see it, namely Hermione. Ron, being ever oblivious, never noticed it until, "Harry! Are you all right?" Hermione asked, concerned. Ron immediately followed up, "Yeah mate, what's wrong with you? Feeling bad about having to return to the bloody muggles?" putting his foot in his mouth rhetorically again. "No, I'm fine!" Harry replied automatically.

 _If they only knew..._

* * *

 **FLASH BACK**

For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor.  
Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then —

He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady dripping of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it. Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just traveled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk's mouth.

The giant mouth of the statue was still open. Curiosity got the better of him, as he dragged himself up to the face. He walked up to the humongous statue and touched the wall. A tingling feeling spread out through his body at that action. A thin silvery tongue protruded out, welcoming him into the cavity. " _Lumos orbis_ ", he whispered, the silvery ball of light floated into the giant chamber within. He wanted to go in, but hesitated, Ginny! He remembered where he was, and stepped back.  
"Oh for magic's sake, come in! don't just stand there shoving that light ball on my face!"

 _A person? A portrait perhaps?_

Harry crossed the silver tongue and entered the chamber. His feet hit something that felt like parchment. He picked it up, staring at the squiggly illegible writing on it.  
 _What language is this?_

"Parseltongue, and now if you are quite done gawking at it, I 'm here on your left!". The _Lumos_ shifted and the portrait of an intimidating man stood there, a snake around his shoulder. "Salazar Slytherin", the portrait continued with a slight nod, "and you have Godric's penchant of not introducing yourself".

"Oh! Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, "Harry Potter".  
"You must be my heir! I believe.", Salazar asked.

"No, Tom Riddle was your heir. I'm just Harry, I'm in Gryffindor!" he rambled.  
"Too much information, very un-Slytherin!", Salazar rebuked, "nevertheless, you are WRONG! boy, you must be of my blood to enter this place."

There was the sound of someone moaning, and at the same time, Fawkes trilled out.  
"I must leave," Harry said.  
"Do come back soon, my heir, there are many things which I have to tell you! For the time being, return to the School. This chamber carries a powerful enchantment, one that has preserved its secrets for centuries. Whenever you are here inside the Chamber of Secrets, whether long term or just temporarily, a magical enchantment covers the doorway, binding anyone who enters to an oath of secrecy. After you leave here, your memories of this Chamber will be safe from external intrusions. Anyone looking for it will just find silent darkness, nothing else. Not unless you yourself desire to tell or show the memories by yourself intentionally."

"Okay! Thanks, I guess", he mumbled and ran over to where Ginny was stirring.

* * *

"So run by me again how I'm Slytherin's, I mean, your heir?"

Harry was back down into the heart of the chamber, as he had promised he would. He was in Slytherin's study, or what went by as a study room thousands of years ago. Pamphlets and parchments thrown around, with a large collection of magical artifacts and ancient-looking dusty tomes. The chamber emitted an ethereal light which showed the depictions of different species of snakes on the walls.  
"The depictions are magically expansive shelves, each holding wealth and items of value, in case you were wondering!" Salazar commented snidely. "So tell me, how is it that MY heir got sorted among the spawns of the house of that ridiculous excuse of a wizard?", Salazar asked with a pout.

 _Childish Salazar Slytherin or not, he definitely wasn't what I was expecting him to be! For the record, what were my expectations again?_

Harry chuckled. "I asked you before!", he asked petulantly. "Fine!", with a gnash of teeth, Salazar continued, "My family was one of the seven ruling families of magical Britannia. I fell in love and married Evolette Eveningshade, whose brother was the then lord of the Ancient and noble house of Eveningshade. All of them having the same, eerie glowing green eyes! If the Eveningshades were good at one thing, it was rituals, and Evolette, she was a natural! And I will be damned if I neglect mentioning her prodigal powers as a spell-creator, her most famous being the Avada Kedavra, and gave the spell the color of her eyes."

"So Evolette Eveningshade was my..." Harry began to be cut off by Salazar, "Your ancestor, along with me, Yes".  
"But my mum was a muggleborn, everybody says that", Harry tried to refute.  
"You said that you survived the killing curse right? Evolette designed the spell in a way that her descendants, her blood would be granted a level of immunity from the curse. She was a follower of the Old Magic, and abided by their rules. I think I have an idea how you survived the curse, although it is still a theory." Salazar replied.  
Giving the portrait his undivided attention, Harry looked up to him to continue.

"The Eveningshades were followers and worshippers of Old Magic, Evolette herself was the high Priestess of the temple of Morrighan, and Old magic demands a balance, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life and a soul for a soul. When that usurper went off to kill you, your mother must have offered her life in return for you to be saved. The usurper didn't, but the Old Magic did understand what she offered, and being of Eveningshade blood, they responded to her call. Her life so that you might live, but then, I wonder..."

Harry's mind was suddenly bombarded by thoughts he had thought of as nightmares. **_  
"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything —"_**

 ** _"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"_**

"Harry?" Salazar asked him, a bit louder. "Yeah, I'm okay, just remembered something!" Harry replied back quietly.  
"You have flashes of memories of that night I take it?" Harry looked up surprised. Salazar continued, "Interesting but not eminently surprising, for that night was special, it was Old Magic in action. Old magic, powerful magic, which leaves..."  
"Traces!", Harry finished the thought.  
"Correct!", Salazar nodded primly.  
"Let's continue with the story", Harry prodded him to continue.

"Me and Evolette resided at Hogwarts, with our two children, Shezar my son and my daughter Viridian. Evolette taught rituals, while I invested myself teaching the pupils the arts of mind-magic and Battle magic. Godric taught Defensive magic and Transfiguration, Rowena the arts of spell creation, and dear Helga taught Potions and Herbology. Sometimes The Peverell family came in to teach at random times, but it was mostly us. Godric and Rowena later married, and if I remember properly, their families were absorbed into the Vikings, who went by the name of LongBottom!"  
"LongBottom? As in my friend Neville LongBottom?" Harry asked, curious now more than ever.  
"Must be! Helga married into the Grim Family and the descendants were later known as a Blacks, to my knowledge. My son Shezar married Edwina Peverell, daughter of the grandchild of the legendary Ignotus, and my daughter Viridian married into the Gaunt family." Salazar finished.  
"I'm mightily ignorant of the wizarding and my own ancestral history it seems!" harry said sullenly.  
"That seems to be the case, but never you worry, I shall see to it that you become worthy of being called the true descendant of the Slytherin family. Evolette and I charmed this inner chamber such that only one with blood potent enough to claim the Slytherin and Eveningshade Bloodline could enter this grandson from Shezar was raised as an Eveningshade since my line was hunted out by that atrocious Morag Gaunt. Though I'm sure some of the squibs of my line continued my lineage. Oh and before you ask, the Peverell family changed its name to Potter, while the Eveningshades went extinct among a line of squibs. However, that seems not to be the case, since your mother was an Eveningshade, and you have Eveningshade blood pure enough to enter this chamber!"

Harry was silent for a while, processing all the new information that he had learnt. "Why couldn't they teach all this in the History of Magic class instead of the droning about goblin rebellions?" ,he thought, as Salazar continued.  
"The Wizengamot maintains that once a family merges into another, all artifacts, wealth, tomes and contracts gets passed into the resulting family, so families cannot access to the seats of the Gryffindor, HufflePuff, Ravenclaw,Peverell and Grim, because they got merged into new ones. However, the Slytherin Family has been independent of the Wizengamot ruling and so had the Eveningshade before going extinct that is. As such if you are worthy by law _and_ magic, you shall be able to pull through and get the lordships of the Slytherin, Eveningshade, and Potter families when you get emancipated. That reminds me, you need to get to the goblins and undergo the purification ceremony. This is important because your magic seems _forced_ to me to some extent.  
"Forced?", Harry questioned.  
"yes! Forced. Do the purification ritual, and you will understand what I mean.", Salazar finished, with the subtle hint to drop the line of question.  
"I don't know how I am supposed to go to Gringotts though! Professor Dumbledore has straight away refused to let me stay here at Hogwarts, and says that I need to return to Private Drive. For my own _bloody good_ ". Harry added with a scorn.  
"unacceptable! I refuse to allow my heir being subjected to the whimsical will of others. Write to Gringotts, I shall dictate. You can find a quill and parchment on the table on your left. We shall ask of them to send a portkey to Gringotts in order to facilitate the end-of-line clause." Salazar ordered and Harry obeyed immediately.  
"Begin...", Salazar started, " to the Account manager of the familia Potter..."

* * *

The classes were at an end. Today the students were to leave and go back home for the summer holiday. Harry had asked _(begged_ ) not to send him back to his relatives, but Dumbledore wasn't listening. He patted on his head and decided that Harry was being unrealistic and exaggerating. After all, which family abused their children? Chores were alright, when done to some extent and as for the thin sickly form, he decided that it was due to the improper feeding habits of young children. Potters had the traditional lean-build anyway. Back at King's Cross, the Dursleys took Harry and his belongings and drove away without a sound. No sooner had they crossed Charring Cross Road, harry whispered " _hereditas_ " and felt a tug at his navel, as the portkey whisked him and his belongings away.


	3. ROTD 03 : Bank on the Holidays

_They crossed Charring Cross Road, harry whispered "Domus familia" and felt a tug at his navel, as the portkey whisked him and his belongings away..._

Goblins may be greedy and vicious, but they were a fair hand at maintaining the wizard economy, there was no doubt about that. The portkey worked like a charm, and dropped him unceremoniously on the floor of a rather large, Spartan corridor. Looking at him was a whiskered old goblin, who reminded him of another whiskered individual _, someone he didn't like a lot then._

 _"_ That was one of the worst ever landings I have seen in all my years and considering that I have been here since the last one hundred and twenty-seven years, that's saying something!", the old goblin laughed. Though the laugh sounded a bit too creepy for Harry's tastes.  
"Account Manager Grimjaw, I suppose," Harry started.  
"Grimjaw, managing your account is my job not my title. And you must be the Potter heir.", Grimjaw replied.  
"Harry, Harry Potter.", he said with a small bow.  
The goblin's eyes widened slightly at the small token of respect. " _That's different!_ " he thought, " _Wizards were a pampered lot_."

Not wasting anymore time, they departed to the end of the corridor where a plate held in front of a door which read, "Account Manager for Potter".  
"Mr. Potter", Grimjaw began, "you were supposed to be meeting us as soon as you turned eleven, but not only did you not come in as requested, you didn't even think it necessary to answer our calls."  
"That can't be possible sir. I did come with Hagrid on my birthday last year, and I have _never_ got any letters from Gringotts.", Harry answered with a flourish.

"Your magical guardian had applied for the Potter accounts to be sealed till you reach your majority. However, with you here, we can make the appropriate changes.", Grimjaw surmised.

"I have a magical guardian?", Harry asked, though he had a name in his mind.  
"Albus Dumbledore took upon himself to be your magical guardian on November 1,1981 and he has been in the role till date which includes voting in the Wizengamot as your assigned proxy. However, you seem to say that you didn't know about all this, and that is a failure on the duties of a guardian. Moreover, since you are the sole heir and last living descendant to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, you are legible to apply for the _end-of-line_ clause", Grimjaw finished.

"The what clause?", Harry blurted out, louder than normal.  
"The end-of-line clause. Being the last living descendant of an old family, you can claim emancipation and be free of being counted as underage in the wizarding world. However, there are certain things you should understand before claiming it.", Grimjaw continued.

Harry sat up straight, giving the goblin his fullest attention. Grimjaw smirked, "Firstly, you may claim the clause and the rights and duties along with it only on and after your thirteenth birthday. As I see it, it is on the July 31st, so two months from now. Next, you can only claim Headship at the moment, the full Lordship will be available to you on your fifteenth birthday. Claiming headship essentially makes you free from the underage binding and you would be free to use magic outside school like an adult. However, you need to assign a proxy for your Wizengamot seat till you claim the Lordship. Also, any offence on your part would be treated so on and forth just like any other adult, that is to say, in presence of the entire Wizengamot. It goes without saying that having a criminal record goes a long way to ensure getting trouble when you actually sit on your Wizengamot seat. The Headship frees you from the orders and limits of your present magical guardian and you can take your own decisions about your House and its investments."

"How do I get to get this going?" Harry asked.  
"I shall file your request for Headship today. Please visit us on your thirteenth birthday and then, we would need to discuss many things, including whatever is to be done with your family manor. But that discussion is not for today", shutting Harry up before he was about to ask something, "till then, you are expected to follow the orders of your guardian."

Harry bobbed his head down lightly, slightly disappointed at the new turn of events. Turns out he would have to go back to the Dursleys anyway. "I don't suppose you could tell me how to go back to my relatives at Surrey.", he questioned hopefully.  
"That would be easy. Just get to the Charring cross road, and lift your wand in front of you, and you can summon the Knight Bus. Farewell, Mr. Potter." With a Spartan smirk, Grimjaw walked away.

 _Bloody smirking goblins!_ He thought.

Wizards were many things, but maker of proper means of traveling, they were not.  
 _I have yet to see a sane and preferable way to travel in the magical world,_ Harry thought as he walked down to the lane of his prison house at Privet Drive.  
This was going to be a long summer!

* * *

The Dursleys had invited Vernon's dear cousin Marge to stay over along with her dear dog Ripper. It goes without saying that events that followed were not technically normal by any standards. Marge insulted the memory of Harry's parents, and in return Harry in a bout of accidental magic, had Marge turned into an elastic balloon which floated away all the way to London. Needless to say, Vernon was one big angry man, and immediately pounced on Harry, in hopes of killing him and ending his freakishness permanently. Harry had somehow anticipated the attack and had his trunk packed beforehand. He took a couple of blows to the arms and somehow ran down the lane, waving his wand like a madman. The knight bus immediately responded taking "Neville Dursley" of Surrey to the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry stayed at the Leaky Cauldron for a day, somehow keeping himself in whole after the meeting with Fudge about the _Sirius Black_ situation, and the _accident_ with the Monster Book of Monsters which had tried to prey upon him thrice, and that was way too many times in his opinion. The next morning was the 31st of July, his birthday and in all likelihood, the day he got permanent release from the Dursleys.

* * *

The next morning, Harry had gone to Gringotts, while feeling all giddy about it within. Grimjaw gave him a couple of sheets to sign, which he did as asked, and then the old goblin brought up a tiny golden box.  
"This box contains the Potter Family ring. Please keep in mind, that the ring and the totem within shall judge you first, and if and only if it finds you worthy, shall you be able to wear the ring and be able to access your family magic and family vault. Else, you shall have to wait until you reach your majority at seventeen. So shall we proceed?"

Harry gulped, and then brought up that Gryffindor bravery within him, as he opened the box and pulled the ring out. In a flash there was a tiny silvery ethereal griffin prowling up at him, as if trying to gauge his reaction. After what seemed like an eternity, the griffin let out a screech and vanished off and it's place the ring had a picture of the griffin in it. Harry delicately held the ring and put it on his finger. Immediately his mind was bombarded by various information. He now knew the location and condition of Potter Manor in Wales, the health and presence of the various elves who were in essence, tied to the magic of the Potter family. He felt in his mind the knowledge of the alliances and the seats of power in the Wizengamot and the knowledge required to conduct oneself in the formal rites of the Wizengamot. He also felt himself surrounded by a strange cloak of magic, which felt like a warm blanket around him but somehow he also knew that others would find this magic cold and intimidating. _This must be the family magic_ , Harry wondered.

"Allow me to be the first goblin to congratulate you as the new Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Now we need to do a few more things on today's list, but before everything else, we need to perform the cleansing and purification ritual on you. This ritual will cost you four thousand and six hundred galleons. On the contrary, this will purify you of all bindings, curses or charms placed upon you. In essence, your magical core will be expunged of all foreign magic and will undergo a full reset, as the muggles say it. So shall we proceed?"

After a subtle nod, Harry followed Grimjaw into what he later came to know as the goblin ritual room. Another goblin, this one smaller than Grimjaw, entered the stone room through the wall opposite from where Harry and Grimjaw entered. It seemed like this small room was connected to the corridor and other room via invisible wall passages, Harry mused. They quickly discussed something in what Harry assumed was Gobbledygook. Grimjaw handed over the papers to the new goblin which then disappeared behind the wall he came from.

* * *

"Right, Mr., Potter," Grimjaw started "Get naked."  
Harry stared at Grimjaw. Grimjaw stared at Harry. It was silent and awkward to say the least.  
"Well?" Grimjaw snapped, getting a bit more annoyed by the second. Seeing that Harry wasn't moving and his blank face expression, and guessing the reason why, he explained "The cleansing is a ritual that involves a lot of complicated goblin magic and runes. Clothes is a material thing and not part of you and that can influence the ritual and runes. We don't need any complications, do we?"  
Hearing that Harry quickly started to undress. While it was a bit, he wasn't particularly shy about it, seeing as he was sharing and undressing in front of other people while at Hogwarts for two years now. And so the odd pair of goblin and naked human entered another room through another wall.  
On the other side there was a circular room which had stone pillars placed in a perfect circle. The most prominent thing, however, was massive runic circle drawn in what seemed like chalk. Harry was quite sure it wasn't chalk though. It's wizarding world after all, probably some kind of powdered teeth or ivory. It started in the middle of the room with a circle, which Harry assumed he will need to stand in, and then expanded outwards with intricate, vine like lines that made another circles, and squares within circles, that were adorned with runes and words and sentences in a language Harry couldn't even begin to read and understand. The lines then formed another seven empty circles equal distance away from each other with the seventh being the biggest.  
Six smaller circles were already occupied by goblins dressed in ancient looking, black robes adorned with various trinkets like bangles and bones. They were also holding some kind of twisted staves which looked to be in the same size as the goblins themselves. The whole black cloak thing gave Harry the feeling of some cult and he actually started to have second thoughts about this whole procedure.

The lines didn't stop there – they expanded further away from the circles, making various geometrical figures as they climbed the wall and ceiling. The ceiling's runic circle was a copy of the one on the ground. All in all, this whole room just felt so... ancient. Harry could almost taste the raw power that circulated there.

Grimjaw calmly addressed Harry "Now, Mr. Potter, please stand in the middle of the runic circle. Harry gulped and asked "Is there something I will need to do?"

Grimjaw couldn't help but grin "Not at all, Mr. Potter. Although..." here he regarded Harry for a second before continuing "Please try to relax. And when we will start chanting try to not restrict your magic, let it flow. In order for this ritual to be successful we need to work with your magic in tandem and that can be difficult if you resist and try to control your magic. Let it go wild, Mr. Potter," seeing Harry's uncertain nod he said "Now if that is all, please relax and try to calm down. We will begin as soon as you are ready."

After some moments of trying to calm himself Harry finally said "Ready."

As soon as the last syllable left Harry's mouth, all the goblins slammed their small staffs as one into the stone ground. And then they did so again, and again, making a slow and steady rhythm. It felt like the magic had purpose and in started to whirl around the room also in rhythm with staff slamming. Harry noticed that magic became even thicker and made goblin robes to flutter like in the wind, even though there was no breeze.

Harry felt the pressure on him increased – he barely managed to stand up. He felt his magic react, trying to get out and he remembered what Grimjaw said. _Relax and let the magic go wild_. And so Harry, closed his eyes and relaxed as much as he could, and remembering how the magic reacted when he cast spells, he remembered how he felt when flying his broom, the natural feel, he guided his magic out to the best to his abilities. He opened the pathways for the magic to flow.

As he did so Harry began to glow, with wisps of green, azure and purple escaping him and joining the swirling magic around. The pressure got so big that Harry collapsed on his knees and was heavily breathing. There were almost no coherent thoughts in his mind, only magic that he willed and allowed to go freely. Harry truly never knew what kind of tremendous control over his own magic he had.

As the air was almost saturated in Harry's magic, mixing together with ancient magic of the room, goblins suddenly stopped slamming their staffs and readjusted them to a different position. There were several seconds of silence in the room and only Harry's breathing and swirling magic in the air could be heard.

Then as one, the goblins slammed their tiny staffs on the floor, creating little sparks, and started to slowly chant in an ancient and almost forgotten goblin language. Their free hand started to make circular motion above their heads and the magic responded to that - it started to pulsate and spin around Harry making a vortex of magic streaked in gold above him. Goblin chanting became faster and more rigid and they started to slam their staffs into the ground again in a slow rhythm. The vortex now was a blur – a pale distortion in the air.

The magic there was so potent and in incredible amount, and it was spinning so fast that it created a gravitational distortion making Harry float up right into the eye of the vortex. As he did so, goblins quickly swiped their free hand downwards, grabbed staff by both hands, made a twirling motion and slammed it into the ground again while keeping chanting. The magic vortex responded to that and now formed a perfect, spinning sphere with Harry in the middle.

The goblins quickly kneeled and put their free hand on the floor, resumed chanting in double speed, and started to quickly tap their staff as one. Their chanting almost sounded as unified singing. And despite what most would think about goblins, the singing actually sounded almost beautiful and just so... magical.

The now pale runic circle started to peel off from the material surface, leaving a trace of green runic circle behind, and closed around Harry making a huge sphere made of purple and azure lines and geometrical symbols with the young man in the middle of it. The goblins slightly changed the rhythmic pattern of slamming staffs and the sphere responded – it started to pour as much magic into Harry as possible, while at the same time taking away equal amount and purifying it and cleaning, and then sending it in again. And so the equal exchange continued for a while.

Sometimes bones breaking and mending as well as a cry of pain could be heard through the staff tapping and goblin singing and thankfully Harry was long since fallen unconscious and didn't feel any pain at all.

But then the unexpected happened – the runic sphere now transformed into a solid ball of red, green and blue magic that twisted and swirled like liquid. It pulsed seven times and then expanded into tremendous ball, almost touching the goblins who were vigorously chanting before transforming into a very thick mist and rushing into Harry.

As the last wisps was absorbed by Harry, he screamed while still unconscious and then all that was human of him was stripped. His material body – flesh, blood, bones, organs and all that, just disappeared and he was truly stripped bare. The only thing that could be seen was a white humanoid apparition. The only thing that could be seen was Harry's soul held together by pure magic.

This Harry had a huge, black taint on his forehead that very slowly spread downwards almost like a drop of black ink spilled into a pure white paper. There were also three small spheres of green, purple and azure surrounding it and revolving around it.

The goblins stared at it in undiluted awe and then they heard a faint whisper in their minds, so faint it could almost be missed and yet they knew what it was. Mother Magic guided them. They also felt that Harry was not lost. He was still there. The goblins renewed their chanting with new vigor, following the whisper's guidance and adjusted it to healing chanting, and slammed their staffs into the floor quite heavily making a streak of magic to leave their staffs and join in the middle of the room where it then travelled upwards and turned white, before separating again and encompassing Harry in a spherical cage.  
And so the goblins continued to chant and look at what was happening in utter shock and wonder. In their opinion, this was a magical wonder and miracle.

The black taint that was spreading slowly started to peel off and leave Harry's white apparition. When it fully separated it transformed into a dark mist with a face in it.  
"I WILL NOT YIELD! I WILL NOT DIE!" It screamed.

There was another unintelligible set of words coming from the three spheres to which the mist screamed "NO! YOU CAN'T!"

The spheres suddenly shapeshifted into three ethereal beings, a griffin, a basilisk and a thestral. The three magical constructs screeched and attacked the mist. Streaks of red lightning started to cascade from the crimson tendrils around Harry, it kept going back and forth through the dark mist and each time it went through it, the mist screamed in pain. The goblins were struggling to keep the magic, and thus the cage, going but they preserved.

It didn't take too long before there was a final scream and the mist became surrounded by a gray sphere now and the face disappeared. The magic kept swirling around Harry and it absorbed the grey sphere into itself before expanding and mixing together with the white magic. It then suddenly rushed towards Harry and entered him, there was a bright flash of light and an explosion.

All the goblins were violently thrown back from the center of the impact, some of them hitting the wall. When they regained their senses they noticed that the whole room was tarnished, with multiple cracks on the walls and ceiling and that the whole runic circle that was there for ages was gone.  
In the middle of the room there laid Harry. In the flesh.


	4. ROTD 04 : Lordships and making money

Harry's eyes snapped awake. The first thing he recognized was a white circular ceiling. The walls were whitewashed and it seemed the world around him was white all over. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, he immediately closed them again, groaning. His limbs were sore, his head was pounding with a vengeance and everything seemed way too bright. Opening his eyes again he found himself in what looked to be a meadow. Confused, he sat up suddenly; the pounding in his head increased making him dizzy. Clutching his head, he squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the feeling to pass.

As he began to feel a bit normal, he opened his eyes again and took in his surroundings: the door standing at the far end as well as the way the white meadow seemed to end abruptly reminded him where he was. With this realization, the memories of the past came back.

"Oh good! You are up! Nice to have you back Mr. Potter." Grimjaw smiled.  
"How long was I out?" Harry inquired tilting his head slightly so as look up at Grimjaw with greater clarity. _I am not wearing my glasses!_

 _"_ It's been a day and a half. Now that you are awake, let's get you dressed and ready to fulfill your familial obligations. Can't have them pending right? After all, time is money!" Grimjaw added with a grin. Finding a white robe that reminded Harry scarily about the medical uniform found in muggle hospitals, he took Harry to the cart area.

Together they travelled down the high winding cart track which seemed to get faster and faster, and as they passed Harry spotted a lot many things on the way. The Vaults ran back as they sped away, he could easily see the names on them... _Black, Bones, Bainbridge, Greengrass, Macmillan, Nott, WAS THAT A DRAGON?  
_ The goblin cart was slowly slowing down and Harry could see some of the names again, the last he recognized was _Peverell_ when the cart gave a wild lurch and suddenly stopped to a standstill.  
"The Potter Family Vault. Upkeep costs are barely noticeable with your current holdings, as I know, please advance to the vault door and place your left hand and wand on the door", Grimjaw announced.

A few seconds later, the door glowed with a silvery shimmer. Harry looked at the door and saw it fade from sight to reveal the contents of the vault inside. The first room contained more gold than Harry could believe existed. The room was quite large and the gold was neatly stacked in rows and set into trays which were stacked from floor to ceiling. The stacks filled the room to where only a narrow path was open for a person to walk to the next room. The defined barrier in the wall shimmered and vanished as Harry approached it.  
The second room had more gold in it, but only a few stacks reached the ceiling and the remaining few stacks were only a few feet high. Harry found much of the remaining room filled with books. Shelves and shelves of books lined the walls and again a small walkway was left open. The next room was filled with paintings, armor, furniture, jewels, and other heirloom type of things. Harry was looking at clothes that seemed a few hundred years out of date.

"This is all mine?" Harry asked.  
"This, and all other vaults that are attached to the Potter family by means of individual investments that keep on increasing the monetary worth of your family vault. Your magical guardian gave instructions to seal the Potter Family Vault to protect it from outside interference and Line theft but ordered us to work on increasing its worth by investing it in the best way possible."

 _I guess I should thank Dumbledore for this! Then again, I should still be angry that he kept me ignorant of all this!_

Harry quickly excused himself from Grimjaw and went to change into one of the robes that he found were of his size. Finding a mirror, he found out that he was a few inches taller than what he was before the ritual." Picking up an enchanted bag, he quickly shoved in a hundred or so galleons as they left the vault.  
Reaching the office, Harry cleared his throat, 'Is there a way to replace my vault keys? I am afraid that I no longer am in possession of them since Mrs. Weasley has forgotten to return my trust vault key, and I have never been given my family vault key. I would also like to make a withdrawal.'  
'You should be careful with your keys, Mr. Potter, you never know when a person could get hold of it and use it to help themselves to your money,' admonished Grimjaw with a frown.  
'At any rate,' he continued, after watching Harry squirm a bit, 'Sign here and we will issue you a new set of keys. Your family vault keys are with me and will not be needed after the wards to the vault are calibrated to your touch.'  
After Harry signed the latest batch of forms, Grimjaw said, 'Excellent, everything is in order; I will carry out the instructions and start making the necessary transactions, and we can start rebuilding your fortunes. Now, to move on to other duties, we need to perform an inheritance test.'  
At Harry's look, he continued, " It is a blood ritual by which we shall be able to determine your ancestry and heritage in utmost detail. I cannot promise anything but you _may_ get heir ship or lordship of some other family of which you _may_ be a descendant of. The ritual shall cost you seven hundred and fifty galleons."  
 _Maybe this is where I can check if I am Slytherin's heir or not!_

At Harry's nod, Grimjaw produced a rather sharp but ancient dagger, and gave to him. "You need to slice your palm with this dagger and then drop the dagger into this chalice," he brought up a rather dusty chalice, "and when you see a blue flame rise up, you need to place your bloody palm into the flames. It will hurt a bit but the cut will get healed almost instantly" he added seeing the nauseous look on Harry's face.

Harry proceeded as told and sliced his right palm and then placed the dagger into the chalice accordingly. A flash followed by a blue flame roared up and Harry placed his now bloodied palm into the flames and suddenly knew what to say. He yelled out, "I Harry James, son of Potter demand of the ancient magicks to judge my worth and bless me with what I deserve."  
 _Must be the family ring!_ , he thought.

The flame soon changed color to Gold and then with a rush, threw out a parchment. Grimjaw lifted his hand up almost automatically and studied the parchment. With widened eyes, he muttered, "By Magic, this is incredible!"  
"Is something wrong?" harry queried.  
"Wrong? Nothing wrong! The results are spectacular. See for yourself Mr. Potter." Saying that he handed the parchment delicately to Harry.

It read.

 **Harrison James Potter**

 **Heir to the ancient and noble house of Potter**

 **Heir to the ancient and noble house of Slytherin**

 **Heir to the ancient house of Eveningshade**

 **Son to the ancient and noble house of Black**

" _Son to the House of Black_? As in _Sirius Black_?", Harry asked, almost unsurprised by the results except the last line.  
"What do you know about Sirius Black Mr. Potter?", Grimjaw asked curiously.  
"Only that he is a mass-murderer and Voldemort's left hand, and that he is a fugitive and on the run.", Harry replied, feeling better at the lack of expression from Grimjaw after hearing the Dark Lord' name.  
"Our records indicate that he was your Godfather, and also that he was captured and put in Azkaban for _betraying_ your parents, although no trial seems to be there after his capture. The lack of trail ensures that Magic still holds him as the present Lord of the Black Family or else you would have been offered its heir ship. Your Grandmother was a Black after all."

Harry's face had been rapidly changing features and colors as a wide variety of emotions traversed trough his heart. Starting with happiness at hearing he had a godfather followed by anger at the betrayal and then by curiosity and sadness on hearing about the lack of a trial.

"Can't he be ensured a trial?" Harry asked.  
"he could, but that doesn't mean he would. Politics is a nasty business Mr. Potter.", Grimjaw replied.  
Filing the information in his mind for later use, Harry continued," so what happens to these families I am heir of?"  
"oh yes, you can take the Lordships since Both House Slytherin and Eveningshade never agreed without the Wizengamot's views on lordship inheritance. Although I would advise you to keep the fact that you are Lord Eveningshade hidden. The history of that house is filled with myth and fear, at least not until you are comfortable by the family magic of both houses as well as House Potter."

Harry undertook the Lordship ritual just like the Potter ritual had been, except that the ethereal beings this time were a basilisk covered in purple mist for Slytherin and a thestral covered in green mist for Eveningshade. Grimjaw couldn't have been giddier as he was suddenly the account manager of three ancient houses and if the estimations were correct, the manager of the wealthiest magical family merger in all Great Britain.  
"Your present merger status shows a monetary worth of eight hundred and sixty seven million galleons, and that's discounting all other non-monetary assets, grounds, manors and investments. Give or take a year, you shall be able to reach billionaire status, that is to say, in liquid cash consideration."

"Wow, I _am really_ rich!", a thought suddenly came to his mind, "Grimjaw do you know any dealer who can help me harvest and sell a basilisk?"  
"Where on earth did you manage to find a Basilisk? And how did you kill it?" Grimjaw almost shouted in astonishment.

"It was in Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. I killed it last year using Gryffindor's sword. It was around eighty feet in length and around 10 feet in width.", Harry said.

Grimjaw laughed mirthlessly. "I am not sure which is more astonishing! The fact that _you_ killed an _eighty feet_ basilisk or the fact that you killed it using _Gryffindor's sword_ in the bloody _Chamber of Secrets_?" Grimjaw replied almost shouting at the end.  
"Yeah... well, I had lots of luck!", Harry replied with a grin.

"That basilisk will need to be rendered and harvested properly and putting aside the costs for that, and some parts and blood and poison for your purposes, and of course Gringotts' fee, I believe you shall make a fortune upwards of twenty million galleons. Seems today's day is luckier than seven sevens for me!" Grimjaw replied with a shit-eating grin.

After a few goblin cart rides to and fro to the three Vaults, Harry felt sure that he had got everything he required. Reminding himself to get some clothes shopped for himself the next day, Harry left the bank.


	5. ROTD 05 :Purebloods and Contracts

Harry spent the next few days exploring Diagon Alley and staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Occasionally he would treat himself to ice-cream at Fortresque's parlor, and while he was curious, he decided that the safe action would be to stay away from Knockturn Alley for the moment.  
At least at the given moment, he thought to himself.

Tom the Barman, had him book a room to himself, addressed to a "Neville Dursley" in order to hold off unwanted attractions. Harry spent the days packing and unpacking the things he had collected from the Potter, Eveningshade and Slytherin vaults inside the multi-apartment trunk he had picked up from the Potter family vault. The said trunk had initially belonged to his Grandfather Lord Charlus Potter when he was an Unspeakable working at some _Department of Mysteries_ at the ministry. Harry had collected a lot many things consisting of especially the Potter family Anybook, the Slytherin and Eveningshade Grimoire and a very queer looking thin diary he had found in the Slytherin Vault with the name **Evolette Eveningshade** written on the cover.

The diary had consisted of the life and knowledge of the then Lady Slytherin Evolette Eveningshade and included her thought on what seemed to Harry as progenitors of various spells. Most of them could be considered dark, but all things considered, harry wasn't going to limit himself by differentiating between magic of different labels. He had found a small diary in the Potter Vault which stated that the Peverell Vault had remained unavailable to every single Lord Potter till date. It claimed that there was a left over duty that was given to the future Potters before a Potter could raise himself to the status of Lord Peverell and acquire the Peverell family magic, which was mostly filled with necromancy and also the family totem the _Quetzalcoatl_. He found out that each Ancient and family was blesses with a special raw form of magic which was referred to as Family magic, and was distinct and different for every Ancient Family. For some, the magic was in artifacts, while for some, it lay in some mythical ability. Harry decided to ask Salazar about it the next time he met up with him.

His custom four-compartment trunk was now heavily warded against theft and destruction, and was packed up with his newly acquired wardrobe from Madam Malkin, a set of Potion supplies for his upcoming year, some dueling robes, some of the advanced books on elemental and obscure magic, a sack of extra galleons for unforeseen circumstances and of course, a couple of trinkets he had sneakily acquired from Knockturn Alley, one of which happened to be a ring that made him temporarily invisible.

It was time to join the Weasleys and Hermione who was, by the sound of it, having a shouting match with Ron regarding her and Ron's respective pets. Stroking Hedwig's feathers, he stood, dressed befitting a manner of a Lord of his standing, getting ready to meet them downstairs.

 _I wonder how Ron and Hermione will react to my changed circumstances!_

"Well... "Harry said to himself, "Here goes nothing!"

To say that Ron and Hermione were not surprised was like saying that Severus Snape was unbiased towards Slytherin. Hermione couldn't sort the fact out that her best friend, who wore rags outside the school, was looking like a pureblood Lord of the highest degree. Dressed in a clock of rich acromantula silk, and wearing a dragon hide jacket and boots stood Harry Potter in all his glory. His emerald green eyes, which normally stood behind his round glasses, stood bold and high, the radiance in them seemed to have increased dramatically, almost giving off a twinkling effect not dissimilar to Dumbledore. She wondered how he could now see without his glasses. She wondered how and why was he dressed so... she searched for the right word and finally settled on _regally._ She wondered what changed.

Ron however, was an entirely different matter. Putting his foot in his mouth as always _, rhetorically_ , he blurted out, "Why are you dressed like bloody Malfoy mate?"

Harry's smile turned into a frown as he replied back, "I came into my inheritance this summer, and am learning to behave the way as should befit and honor my ancestors and respect the traditions of my Family." He didn't fail to notice the greenish hue of jealousy that flicked across Ron's face as he continued, "I had no idea of all this before this summer, so I'm trying my best to learn up the ways and traditions of my family. As for these robes, I am wearing what is required for a Lord in public. So stop and heed my words before you go on to compare myself with Malfoy of all people!" he said with a frown.

"yeah sounds like behaving all slimy pureblood to me!" Ron gnashed out.  
"You **ARE** a pureblood, and turns out, so am I, so don't you go preaching about being slimy, you hypocrite!" Harry shouted. Ron muttered something about bloody purebloods, money and "fame gone to the head" or something like that.  
"I should go check if Mrs. Weasley needs some help", muttered Hermione as she decided to avoid the awkward situation.

* * *

Later in the evening, Harry got his first ever missive from Gringotts delivered by a regal eagle-owl. Grimjaw had asked him to visit the Bank premises for "house business". Wondering what it was for, Harry headed for the Bank.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, good to see you being so earnest. I have a piece of ... interesting little information which I'm sure which affect you very deeply. I believe we should retire to me office to discuss it in detail.", saying that Grimjaw led Harry to his office.

After a few refreshments were served, Grimjaw forwarded Harry a piece of what appeared to him as some kind of legal parchment. He transferred his attention to the parchment in his hands. Mildly slurping his juice, his eyes wandered the headline, absently marveling what nonsense legal propaganda it was, this time. Validating the title, he bobbed his head calmly. Closing his eyes fully, he continued to drink his juice with the tiny smile was still there. In such a slow pace, his brain processed and processed yet again. It clicked to him in an abrupt fashion. Opening his eyes instantaneously, he swiftly inspected the headline again. Eyes popped, he spewed out all of her juice on the table. Harry swore. Very Loudly.

"A MARRIAGE CONTRACT? I'M BLOODY THIRTEEN!" Harry shouted out, forgetting all his mannerisms that he was supposed to portray, what with being a Lord and all. Grimjaw held his predatory smirk, as Harry continued to read the rest of the parchment.  
The Contract was issued by Lord Edward Slytherin in 1503 for the then Lady Greengrass. Due to her premature and sudden death, the contract could not be fulfilled. Five decades later, the Slytherin line squibbed out, until one Harry James Potter reactivated the line.

"Before you ask, the contract is iron-clad and no, you cannot buy-out this contract." Grimjaw stated understanding Harry's sullen expression.  
"I want to know how exactly did I descend from Slytherin and Eveningshade families." Harry blurted out.

"I believe I can be of some help in that. Besides, we need to discuss the ramifications of the cleansing ritual you undertook the previous time you came here. The inheritance ritual shows that your late Grandfather, A Mr. Sebastian Evans was a squib of Eveningshade blood. Your grandmother was coincidentally, a squib from the Slytherin family tree. A fusion of the two mythical bloodlines was enough to make your mother Lily Evans into a magical pureblood, although she didn't show any bloodline abilities. My guess is that the addition of the Potter-Peverell blood was responsible for permanent activation of the bloodline abilities which you will start showing starting from this year and completely by your majority. I daresay you shall be a powerful _sorcerer_ by the time you reach your majority Mr. Potter."

Harry listened to Grimjaw's explanation. He thought about what Salazar would say, about what the bloodline abilities were and if he would manifest them, but importantly, there was a line of thought nagging his mind all over. It was about the person he knew he was betrothed too. She was notorious in school for her reputation of being a cold sadistic bitch who could almost freeze people off with her icy glare. She was famous for cursing her suitors left and right and at very inconvenient places. He wondered the irony of the fact that he was _the_ Lord Slytherin while his betrothed, the Lady Daphne Greengrass, was famously dubbed as the _Ice Queen of Slytherin_.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass, notoriously known to all students and even teachers alike at Hogwarts as the Ice Queen of Slytherin, was presently treating herself to chocolate which she had hidden in her secret chocolate stash. Both she and her little sister Astoria had a sweet tooth and love for all kids of chocolate in magical and muggle worlds. At the first glance, one could hardly identify them as sisters. While Daphne got her luxurious raven black hair from her father, her icy blue eyes were from her mother. On the contrary, Astoria was brown haired from her mother and had hazel eyes of her father. Both sisters however, had their height from their father, but when all was said and done, Daphne was going to be slightly taller than her sister. Both were lithe in body build and well-endowed in physical assets as well as quick wit. Whereas Astoria " _tori_ " Greengrass was as warm and bubbly as any easy-going-HufflePuff, Daphne carried herself with a stoic, cold, indifferent mask with a dark humor when in public.

"Queenie!", Astoria shouted suddenly in Daphne's ear, which resulted in the Ice Queen suddenly bawl out in a most in-ladylike fashion. "Dad is calling for you!", Astoria finished meekly, trying to vanish and avoid Daphne's wrath. Daphne on the other hand, was glaring at Astoria, as if wishing her to vaporize on spot. Once the words of her sister got processed in her mind, she strode away towards her father's study room.

* * *

"The Greengrass family have been notified about the change of circumstances. It would be proper of you to personally address the Lord Greengrass and request a meeting at their place. It will demonstrate honor on your behalf as well as serve as a message that _you let them_ be comfortable by making the venue according to their wishes. Simple and intimidating at the same time." Grimjaw suggested Harry, "Also, I would advise you to address the letter with the sign of the Slytherin ring and addressed from as Lord Slytherin, for it is Harrison James Slytherin who is contracted to marry, not Potter."  
Harry did as asked, grinning to himself, at what he felt was almost a good prank when the Greengrasses realize who Lord Slytherin was.

* * *

Cyrus Greengrass was a resilient, intimidating man in her forties and had carried the Neutral banner under his family name for the last decade at the Wizengamot. Those who knew the man personally knew that he was a man of few words, and hardly anything (well, apart from his family) could get a rise out of the silent, observing man. Nevertheless, the best of us sometimes need to eat our words, and so was it when Lord Greengrass received a missive from Gringotts that morning.

* * *

Daphne entered her father's study and stood in a discerning way, waiting for her father's instruction. Seeing her, Cyrus nodded her to sit in the sofa next to him, and handed her a letter.

"I'm sorry Daphne!"

Daphne's eyes widened at his father's reply as she quickly opened the letter and read it herself. The look on her face alternated with emotions of anger, fear and curiosity. Anger because she was betrothed to some old sick bastard and hence, her free life was about to come to a close. Fear because she knew who _Slytherin's Heir_ was rumored to be. Curiosity because she knew that the Dark Lord was supposedly dead and she had never heard of a _Harrison Slytherin_ before. Might he be _the son_ of the Dark Lord? Then again, the Dark Lord was never known to be of the family type. She wondered who this new Lord was.

"What are we doing about this, father?"

"The contract is iron-clad. Nothing can be done to get out of it. I'm sorry again, my dear. That being said, I have noticed some... peculiarities about this situation." Cyrus replied.

" _Peculiarities_?"

"Yes! Nobody has ever heard of the Dark Lord ascending to the Lordship of Slytherin House, only that he was _supposedly_ Slytherin's heir due to his _Parseltongue_ ability. Second, no one has ever heard of any Harrison Slytherin ever. Such a family descendant doesn't just drop out of nowhere. Third and most important, _he_ has straight away _requested_ an audience at _our_ comfort."

"Requested?", Daphne intervened," isn't that a bit strange and ... _modest_ for someone having a Slytherin Lordship?"  
Cyrus nodded, "However, we need to prepare. Whoever this Lord is, he is coming for lunch. Be on your best behavior and we will see how the situation turns out."

"Yes father."

* * *

Harry dressed himself up in what he felt was an appropriate robe for the situation. He was supposed to be at The Greengrass Gardens for lunch. Buying a bouquet of daffodils (he laughed to himself about the irony of the situation) and sighing to himself twice, he activated the portkey which was supposed to take him there.

It was time for lunch, and quite an anticipated one for that. Hearing the door bell, Daphne strode elegantly towards the door and swung it open. She couldn't have been more shocked than seeing what she was, an elegantly robed Harry Potter stood outside with a grin on his face. Daphne stared at him. Harry lifted his arms to gift her with the bouquet of daffodils. Daphne stared at him, as Harry decided to wish her a good noon.  
Daphne stared at him. Harry raised an eyebrow.  
Daphne still stared at him.

If Daphne were Hermione Granger, she would have wondered why Harry Potter of all people stood at her door. If Daphne were Hermione Granger, she would have wondered where the Dark Lord's mysterious son was instead. If Daphne were Hermione Granger, she would have exclaimed that there was no freaking way that the Golden Boy was the Lord Slytherin.  
However, Daphne was not Hermione Granger, so she just stood in awe before blurting out, "Bloody hell!"  
"Daphne!", her mother exclaimed, shocked at her daughter's sudden use of profanity. She strode quickly to the door and seeing who the visitor was, her jaw just dropped as she exclaimed, "Bloody hell indeed!"

* * *

 **### Finally, Daphne enters the story. Let me assure you readers, the story line isn't quite canon if you couldn't tell. I personally think that there is no point trying to run the whole year with the fugitive escapades of Sirius Black and then to kill him off later on without any effective role. NO, my Sirius is going to live and be a part till the endgame perhaps, but don't take my word for it yet! I may bring in other female lead characters but hang on till then... Once again, thanks for reading and please review, review, review...** **Thanks.** **Arcturus Peverell.** **###**


	6. ROTD 06 : Secrets and a Lunch

After both mother and daughter were back to normal from their gob smacked expressions, the Lady Victoria Greengrass asked him formally.  
"Who seeks entry to these halls?"

"I am Harrison, Head of House Potter by blood, and Lord of House Slytherin by blood and magic." Harry replied back formally.

"Welcome Mr." she hesitated for a second," Slytherin".

The door opened, showing a miniature version of Madam Greengrass, dressed in a gown similar to the one worn by Daphne, only deep blue with silver embroidery.

"Hi, I'm Astoria. Are you going to marry my sister?"

"Astoria!" Daphne hissed.  
"I just wanted to know, because if you do, I get her old bedroom," Astoria said mischievously.

Harry considered bantering with Astoria, but reckoned that it wouldn't make the best impression.

"We'll see," he answered noncommittally.

* * *

Harry had read about the mechanics and mannerisms of a formal dinner from his father's journal. Cyrus would begin with a Gaelic blessing, and the meal would begin with a first course of bread, oil and salt, which presumably meant that Harry was now a guest of the house and couldn't be killed by any member of the family for seven days. Harry appreciated the background, but wondered at the logic, or lack thereof, behind the rituals.

"You are a guest of ours, Harrison, may I call you Harrison?" Cyrus stated gravely, passing him a plate with an unsliced loaf of bread.

Harry tore a chunk off the end of the loaf, dipped it into the oil, and then sprinkled it with salt before eating it.

"Do you have questions of us, Harry?" Victoria asked cheerfully, "though I think my daughter would have a couple of questions perhaps!"  
"More like twenty thousand questions!" Daphne muttered.

At Harry's nod, Cyrus began asking, "What we all would like to know Harrison, is how you are the new Lord Slytherin. I had the notion that the Dark Lord was Slytherin's heir, and to be honest, we were expecting to meet the spawn of the Dark Lord."

Harry silently finished his bread, taking his time to formulate what he thought would be an adequate answer to the situation. Since the cleansing, his mind had been so much more clear and his thoughts ran faster. The old Harry would have perhaps tried to search for a hole to hide himself into, but the new Harrison was _almost_ comfortable with his elevated stature. He felt that somehow, this was just him, Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived.

"My maternal grandmother was from a long line of squibs from the Slytherin family. My mother, while may have been a witch, didn't have enough magical potency to reactivate the bloodline properly. My account manager guesses that it was the Potter blood which helped reactivate the family bloodline abilities."

"Hence, your ability to speak Parseltongue" Daphne interrupted in between.  
"Yes, the school thought I was Slytherin's heir, and ironically I am, though not because Voldemort" ,Harry frowned at the reaction, " gave me some of his abilities when he was defeated for the first time."

"How did you get to know about your heritage Harrison? I remember my daughter commenting on your, and I quote her now. _tattered muggle robes looking worse than a Weasley_. So imagine my surprise now that we have you here during the holidays portraying the epitome of class." Cyrus prodded.

"My magical guardian Professor Dumbledore left me at the Dursleys after the death of my parents. My childhood has been... unpleasant at best, and I have never known my heritage. In fact, I came to know that I was a wizard, not a freak for the first time when I received my Hogwarts letter." Harry finished solemnly.

"And we wondered why the Boy-who-lived was so poorly dressed and _no offence meant, uncultured_. I personally took it for a fact that you had befriended the Weasleys and didn't want them to feel inferior and hence never dressed the way someone of an ancient and noble family should. I thought it was extremely puritanical, but then again, you are _Dumbledore's Golden Boy."_ Daphne said with a pointed look.

"Well," Cyrus began, "the contract as you know is iron-clad. What are your views about this betrothal?"  
"Honestly, I had no idea this would happen." Harry quipped.

It wasn't until young Astoria, Tori, sweetly asked him if he really had a coven of Veela hidden in France where he went every summer with his sidekick elf, Mopsy- that Victoria finally stepped in and called a halt to it. Harry almost laughed out loud when he saw the look of gratitude on Cyrus's face when he looked at his wife.  
He could not, however, stop the slight snort of amusement that escaped his lips. And that started Daphne in on him. Clearly, the girl had been bottling up her anger at the situation and she had decided to unload her ire on Harry.  
"You might think this is _funny_ , Harry James Potter, but I _don't_ ," she snipped. "No _modern_ family uses betrothal contracts, these days; and I'm _not_ pleased I'm _subjected_ to one forcing me to marry _you_!"

"So was I", Harry mumbled to himself, but Daphne heard him.  
Not knowing how to respond she just glared back.  
Harry thought, 'Ha! Hopefully, I've headed _that_ particular rant off.'  
He also noticed Cyrus make a small gesture with his wine goblet as if offering him a toast of congratulations.  
"So," she asked with a lower venomous voice, obviously changing tactics, "Am I _that_ repulsive?"  
"No, no! Not at all!" replied Harry quickly, "it's just that you are too beautiful to be shackled with a contract!" trying his hand at flirting.

"OH!" Tori quipped with a tiny blush, "he's got you one Daffy!"

Daphne glared at her.

Trying to save the situation from becoming an over bloated natural disaster, Cyrus intervened, "So what are your plans for the future Harrison?"

"Right now, I'm just trying to accept and rebuild my life to what it should have been. But I would like to become an unspeakable like my Grandfather. What about you Daphne?" Harry queried.

"As if it does matter anymore" Daphne snapped much to Cyrus' frown, "I'm going to be a pretty little housewife after all after school anyway."

"I believe we are having a misunderstanding here. I would be most happy if you are willing to be, at least my equal in all respects. I am happy with your successes as I will be with mine. This betrothal, it is unbreakable so I just want to live it best."

Daphne stared at him, as if trying to figure something out with a glassy look in her eyes.  
"Excuse me please," she stood up with a watery smile, and walked away. Harry tried to think what he did wrong. He didn't notice the smiles Cyrus and Victoria were sending his way.

"I believe we should settle down another date between you and me Harrison to discuss on family matters." Cyrus ended.  
"That is most agreeable!" Harry nodded.

* * *

The remaining of the holidays went almost in a blur. Harry attended two more lunches at the Greengrass manor and could see Daphne become subtly more comfortable with him. He also had many discussions about the Family merging issues with Cyrus, with whom he had developed a rather friendly relation. One of those meetings decided the fate of the Slytherin votes.

"It is my request that you handle the Slytherin and Potter House votes as my proxy till I attain my majority Cyrus."

"The Slytherin vote? Are you sure you would like to place the votes of a predominantly dark House on the Neutral banner Harry?"

"I am. I do not agree with the Pureblood Supremacy but I respect traditions and ancient rules. I think the addition of Slytherin to your Banner will provide you with aid provided that you have an agenda to use that aid." Harry replied.

"Agenda?"

"Yes, my grandfather was quite repetitive on the fact how the neutrals never stood for any motion, and that they liked to keep things at a standstill, radar less and without any agenda. Voldemort and Dumbledore stand on opposite sides, and both are extremists. I personally would like a middle path where magic is not differentiated, discarded and divided into factions. "

"And you want Slytherin House as the fore-runner of this new movement?" Cyrus prodded.

"No, I want you to lead the movement, and use the name of Slytherin House in order to influence and make the less fanatical purebloods to turn to our banner." Harry finished.

"Interesting... I will think about it!"

"That's all I ask!"

* * *

Harry sat alone in a compartment in the Hogwarts Express. It was still quite early and not many people had yet arrived to catch the train. Taking out a book on runic arrays, he started to read. He quietly wondered about the many changes that had happened in his life since his first time foray into the Chamber of Secrets. His social stature, his looks, his body physiology and magic, his mentality and even his friend circle had vastly changed. His mind flashed back to one of those priceless talks he had with Salazar's portrait before leaving for the summer.

* * *

 **FLASHBACK**

"I sense you to be a little timid than I would have preferred for my heir. I want you to tell me about your life so far. Understand that, unless you tell me the facts, I cannot change your life for the better and make you what you should be." Salazar had said.

Normally such questions and interrogations would make Harry reply back with a "I'm fine" followed by attempts to try shift the line of conversation to something else. It was one of the reasons why he stood by Ron more often than not. Ron was never one for intellectual conversations, and his needs and wishes were simple and limited to a few things like chess and Quidditch. As long as Harry went with him along, he never had any issue. Hermione on the other hand, Didn't seem to understand the concept of privacy. Anything and Everything under the Sun seemed to her as personal. She seemed to think that she deserved to know all of Harry's personal thoughts and secrets, never caring to think if she never shared her secrets with him. She would pester him again and again, sometimes subtly and at other times, bluntly to impart her his deepest secrets.

Salazar however, was different. He praised him whenever possible, perhaps because he understood that Harry lacked the feeling of self-worth in horrifying levels. It was as if he didn't have a reason to think for himself. And to think that people took that as his selflessness was galling.

"All my life I have been living as the oddball nephew of the Dursleys. Till age six, I used to think that my name is Freak", Salazar hissed angrily. Harry continued, "It was only when the teacher in class told me that I should respond when people call me " **Harry Potter** " that I came to know my name."

"What about your parents?"

"Aunt Petunia said that my mother was a whore and my father was a drunkard. She told that they had gone off drunk-driving and then got themselves killed, and little Harry had been left at the Dursleys' steps. I used to do chores full time since I was four years old, and until last year, I used to live a small shoe cupboard under the stairs."

Salazar let out an array of words in Parseltongue and while Harry couldn't make heads or tails out of it, he did however understand that Salazar was indignant and angry over his treatment at the Dursleys. It was a different feeling from what he had felt all his life.

 _Maybe this is what feels like family..._

"Last year after I received a flurry of letters followed by a visit by Hagrid, I was told I was not a freak. I learnt that all those freakish things that I did were magic, that I was a wizard, that my parents were one, that my parents' names were James and Lily Potter. I was then told how my parents died, trying to save me from some evil wizard whom Hagrid at first, completely refused to name, but later revealed the name to me. I cold never understand why people always have that odd reaction to that name."

Harry continued. "Then after a month or so, I am at the Kings Cross station, ready to board the train. I make my first friend there, and two more who would later grow up to my second and third friends here. I get an abrasive show by Draco Malfoy who almost proclaims himself as the epitome of Slytherin and based on his behavior, I decide that staying away from Slytherin House was the best decision under the Sun. I land up for two years with the Lions, not a very bad deal I will give you that, since I did make some friends here."

"But now I often wonder if that had been a mistake. The sorting, I mean. I've lied. I've been lying to myself, and more importantly my friends, for a long time. I didn't want to lose friends so I held myself back in classes after a month or two..." He admitted with a blush. "I didn't want to lose Ron because I was doing better than him or lose Hermione to some naive competition for grades that it might have turned out to be."

"you were trying to hold everything together and survive. I know that feeling. Anyways go on." Salazar prodded gently.

"But I still lie to them. Even after everything we've been through; smuggling dragons, and killing Quirrel, a rogue house elf and making polyjuice, giant spiders and three-headed dogs, a deranged fraud and saving Ginny from a basilisk, after experiencing that together I still haven't shown them that side of me." Harry let a sigh, "My friends know me. They know me very well, but they never see what I don't want them to see and it terrifies me they might not like what they find out if I really put in the effort to just... be me this year. I've been playing the part of the Boy-Who-Lived for two years, not Harry Potter."

"I don't presume to understand everything you have been though, my heir, but one thing I can tell you is that Nothing is worth lying to yourself. Be what you are, and accept it and emerge out as a greater person, else you will forever remain in the shadows trying to live up to the hype of that stupid moniker. I cannot really feel for a person, let alone my heir, who doesn't even stay true to himself. You need to take charge of your life and live how you want to. Don't hide in the dark and let something like fear hold you back from showing your true intelligence and personality. Take the classes you want to take, be who you want to be and never look back. You need to do what's best for you, Harry. I know I did. Even when Godric knew went against me, I stood for myself though I stood alone. Don't feel bad about trying to be yourself, Harry, you'll only betray yourself in doing so."

It took a moment for the sentiment to sink in Harry's mind, as he gave a slow nod. Then, his face broke into a slight grin as he asked, "So tell me, how much can I get from the remains of this basilisk?"

"Ask the goblins. Though I can say you would be surprised at the answer."

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

The train was now positively swirling with the voices of children inside and the adults on the platform. Harry got up to check if the Weasleys had yet arrived, and he wasn't surprised that at the last moment, a huge gang of redheads came in, bumping into each other and shouting and everything.

 _Somethings never change_ , Harry thought to himself.


	7. ROTD 07 : Dementors on the Train

**###Finally back on the express to school...Review!**

Harry was working on developing a new runic array so as provide a new security to his trunk. If someone would take a peek into his trunk, they would accuse Harry as being a serious dark wizard if not anything else. Not that Harry could complain, what with the way he arranged his books with "elementary introduction to dark magicks" on top.

Right now, all he had were half-formed ideas... He had been studying, researching, writing and rewriting his research on runic magic. Salazar had given him carte blanche to study runic magic on his eyes, Harry decided to get a little rest. His eyes were sore from staring at paper for the past several hours.

He gathered up his notes, placed them in his trunk, and took out a book to read and pass the time. Daphne was supposed to be with her friends, he mused. Not that he would not enjoy her company, but he decided to let her approach him on her own accord. Stretching his arms above his head, Harry started to sit down, but he was stopped from doing so when the Hogwarts Express screeched to a halt.

 _What's going on?_

Harry looked out the window. Rain splattered against the glass, making it difficult to see beyond. The cleansing ritual had mended his eyesight, but it was still difficult to see beyond the rain splashing on the window glass. There wasn't much to see. They were in an area of Scotland that was pretty much all open space.

The air had grown unnaturally cold, and his breath came out as a fine mist. Ice crept along the glass, slowly expanding in tendrils. Soon, thye window was too frosty to let any light pass through. The temperature was cold, even by wizarding standards.

 _What is out there? I should get ready...?_

Harry could sense multiple magical presences. They were unlike anything he'd ever felt. He didn't know what they were, but even though he could not see them, he could feel the drain on his mental strength. It felt like all the happiness had suddenly disappeared, leaving him empty. His mind had suddenly lost himself in his bitter memories of his past, situations he never thought he would find himself in.

 _What is this? Why am I seeing this?_

The lights flickered and suddenly went out. Even so, Harry could see just fine. Looking at the window, his glowing green eyes, cat-like and vibrant, were reflected back at him.

" _HARRY!"_

A female voice screamed. Harry jerked around to see where the voice had come from, but there was no one there. It was just him.

 _"NO! NOT HARRY!"_

A rattling noise rung in his ears. Something had boarded the train. But what?

 _A door burst open. A dark figure entered through the broken hinges that were splattered in front of the doorway... he took out a wand._

 _A high, cruel note of laughter._

Images flitted through his mind. Memories that he normally kept carefully contained were brought to the fore. Harry stumbled, holding a hand to his face as he was bombarded with the worst memories that his mind had to offer.

" _You're just a good for nothing freak!" his uncle shouted, looking over him and spraying spittle all over his face._

The glass window shattered and a gaunt hand appeared. Weathered fingers clutched the windowsill, and a figure soon followed the fingers. A hood covered its head, leaving its face masked in darkness. Even with his enhanced vision, Harry could not see past the darkness, which meant it was likely magic that kept him from seeing beyond. A tattered cloak covered its frame. Only its gaunt hands were visible as it floated into the room.

" _Freak!"_

" _Not Harry, please… have mercy… have mercy…"_

" _We would've been better off without you!"_

" _Why shouldn't we kill the brat? Nobody would notice!"_

" _Worthless!"_

" _Just like your father!"_

" _You would've been better of dying with your parents!"_

The images and words barged into his mindscape, no matter how hard he tried to exert whatever rudimentary Occlumency he knew!

 _A corpse lay on the floor. Black hair spread out around it. A broken set of round glasses lay beside._

The visions became worse. He barely saw the cold bony hand of the Dementor as it slowly lifted its hood.

 _A man garbed in a dark cloak held a wand. As green light shot from it, the woman who stood protectively in front of him died, her body rumpling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut._

Harry lost himself in oblivion.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was relaxing in his warm plush chair. He was looking forward to seeing the faces of the students who were coming to Hogwarts. Watching young people learn to wield magic, seeing the joy light up in their eyes as they discovered the wonders of this world, it was one of his greatest joys. His thoughts shifted to Harry Potter. At times he felt he had failed the boy. At times, he thought he was doing what was necessary. At times he wondered why the boy exaggerated his life at the Dursleys. At times he wondered what made the boy so meek and caring? He was just about to taste his latest discovery in the world of confectionaries, a Boo-Boo-Cluster, that his office door banged open as the voice of Minerva McGonagall boomed into the room.

"Albus! Harry Potter has been attacked by Dementors!"

* * *

 _Where am I? What is this place?_

Harry was standing all alone, surrounded by mists, which emitted energies so powerful that Harry could feel it in his bones. He looked around him but could not find anything except Darkness, ever progressing eternal darkness. He looked down.

 _A_ _m I standing on Fire?_

"Yes and no! This is, what you humans call as your magical core, boy!"

Harry looked around and found nobody except the purple mist floating all around him.  
 _Did this mist just talk back to me?_

"Yes, now quit being an idiot. This is the last time we could bring you here and talk to you, so when I say listen, just shut up and listen." The voice boomed from the purple mist.

"Wha... uhm, who are you?" Harry queried.

"I am the Old Magick of the Ancient Family of Slytherin. Now look into the abyss in front of you." Harry looked in front and two other mists, green and azure this time, appeared in front of him, surrounding what appeared to be a dark twisted cloud. "That twisted cloud is an abomination, a seventh sundered part of a soul trying to latch into you. The family magicks of Eveningshade, Potter and myself had captured and imprisoned it away from affecting you..."

Harry was suddenly reminded of something that happened during the cleansing ritual...

 _ **"I WILL NOT YIELD! I WILL NOT DIE!" It screamed.**_

 _ **There was another unintelligible set of words coming from the three spheres to which the mist screamed "NO! YOU CAN'T!"**_

 _ **The spheres suddenly shapeshifted into three ethereal beings, a griffin, a basilisk and a thestral. The three magical constructs screeched and attacked the mist.**_

"It was you, all of you that attacked the mist keeping it away from me. I remember now."

"Yes", the purple mist replied. "we created a magical sphere to imprison the abomination away".  
Harry could remember it vividly.

 _ **It didn't take too long before there was a final scream and the mist became surrounded by a gray sphere now and the face disappeared. The magic kept swirling around Harry and it absorbed the grey sphere into itself before expanding and mixing together with the white magic.**_

"yes, I remember. Thank you, I guess, for saving my life and, uhm, soul I guess". Harry replied.

"You are our descendant. Our powers serve to aid you in reaching your destiny. If things had remained as they should have, the abomination should have remained imprisoned till you could figure out a way to cleanse it away. But the advent of that other abomination of soul magic.."  
"That black thing with the hood?" Harry interrupted.

"yes, that was a Dementor. A soul-sucking parasite. When it tried to suck out your soul ", Harry gulped, "we tried protecting you against it and because of that, the imprisoned soul piece escaped out and would have been successful in getting hold of your body and mind, if we had not intervened. As of right now, the Old magicks of Eveningshade and Potter have bonded together to protect you leaving only me behind for your use. Needless to say, you would not be able to claim your family magicks of Eveningshade and potter until you get rid of this sundered soul piece. Do you understand what I am saying, descendant?"

"yes, I think I do." Harry replied, now worried.

"Understand that the abomination can only be removed by two ways and two ways only. The first is that you would have to die and then fight a battle to the death with the soul piece. Whoever should prove stronger in the battle of wills between you too should get the body and mind. So in case you lose, you shall die forever while your body will become the body of this piece who will thus get control over us, the family magicks which are tied to you by your blood."

 _No way. No freaking way. That's not an option._

"The other way would be to raise the long extinct bloodline abilities of the Eveningshade and Peverell. Yes, Peverell not Potter for they were the original ancient magicks. Reactivating those abilities should boost your magic enough to overpower the soul piece and get it back imprisoned like it was after the cleansing."

 _But that would not destroy the soul piece._

"yes that would not destroy the soul piece," the mist said as if it had read Harry's mind, "but if you could overpower it with magic and will, there is a chance to assimilate the powers of the soul piece and integrate them into your magic. A little taint should still be present and it would bring about a slight change in your personality, but it is still a better option."

 _One, fight for your soul after death. Or Two, awake ancient bloodline abilities. And I was hoping this to be a normal year!_

Harry gulped, "I will try my best, but what is this _fire_ thing in my magical core?"

"That would be your dormant Pyro-elemental ability descendant. Use my magick, free us and reactivate the ancient bloodlines. Make us proud. Descendant."

And with that harry was suddenly pulled into the flames he was standing on, as he woke up, perspiring heavily, on the familiar bed in the Hogwarts Hospital wing.

* * *

"Minerva, call Poppy and tell her to make preparations. Remus, you come with me. Severus, please see if Poppy needs any potions brewing." Dumbledore told everyone and was followed accordingly."

 _Why can't the boy get to enjoy a normal year without a near-death experience?_

Poppy Pomfrey was one patient woman. You had to be one if you wanted to survive the place filled with hellions they called a school. Teenagers had this ability to be hurt and injured out of seemingly harmless situations. Moreover, that is not even considering the enigma by the name of Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. The boy had either bad luck, or good luck, and Poppy could never figure out which was true. The boy tended to be present at the Wrong situation at the right time _, or was that right situation at the wrong time?_ In addition, he miraculously saved the school from terrible dangers every year. First year from that stuttering fool of a teacher, and then by a basilisk of all things. Moreover, let us not forget the uncountable times he fell from his broom or got hurt saving someone else. His puny mind never seemed to understand that near-death experiences are not necessary for successful termination of a scholastic year at Hogwarts. This year, even before the start of the term, Dementors attacked him.

 _Oh, the boy will be the death of me!_


	8. ROTD 08 : Classes and Challenges

**### finally school has begun, and yes guys I intend on using flashbacks when sharing information, usually twisting the plot in the process. The basilisk question posed by reviewers shall be addressed soon! I have selected one animagus out of the choices offered so far! Hopefully readers shall find it soon.**

 **### Another question... Choose one! Fleur Delacour or Susan Bones! I won't give the reason for this selection, although it won't be for a relationship that you can sure. Review, review, review... thanks again guys!**

 **###Oh another question. Choose Ron or Malfoy! Once again I won't say the basis for selection. Think of these selections as wild cards. Enjoy! Adios!**

* * *

It was a somber crowd that sat at the Hogwarts' tables in the great hall. When the train had stopped suddenly on the way to Hogsmeade station and the Dementors had entered, lot of the students had suffered from some of their worst memories, while others felt their muscles go cramp due to the unnatural cold aura produced by the prowling Dementors. Someone in the crowd had heard that Dementors had attacked Harry Potter of all people and that he was dead. Needless to say, the absence of Harry Potter on the Hogsmeade station sort of confirmed the rumors. The Hogwarts rumor mill was working overtime and by the end of it, every student _knew_ what had happened.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass had sat with her best friend Tracy Davis, along with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. She suspected that Nott and Tracy were in a hidden relationship but didn't have any evidence to support her suspicions yet. Her betrothed Harry Potter was supposed to arrive into her compartment before the train reached Hogsmeade station, but then, Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen. Even Dumbledore refused to comment anything, just saying that Harry was in the Hospital wing and undergoing treatment. She hadn't expected a direct answer but at least, expected to know a little more than that. Tracy noticed her anxiety and tried to determine what was wrong with her _cold_ friend. Daphne nodded back saying that she was all right and that it was just the incident with the Dementors. Nothing else. Her mind traversed through recent memories, one in particular, between her and Harrison (Harry) that happened after the first lunch at her manor.

 ** _"As if it does matter anymore" Daphne snapped much to Cyrus' frown, "I'm going to be a pretty little housewife after all after school anyway."_**

 ** _"I believe we are having a misunderstanding here. I would be most happy if you are willing to be, at least my equal in all respects. I am happy with your successes as I will be with mine. This betrothal, it is unbreakable so I just want to live it best."_**

 ** _Daphne stared at him, as if trying to figure something out with a glassy look in her eyes.  
"Excuse me please," she stood up with a watery smile, and walked away._**

Harry had come after her, with her father's permission of course trying to determine what went wrong. She had shouted out at him, vented out all her frustrations, about the way her life was _bent_ around the _Slytherin way,_ how no one would give her any hard-earned respect in her house because after all, she was to be the _betrothed-away-gift to the Gryffindor Golden Boy_. Harry had agreed that they would keep their betrothal a secret from everyone else, and in return, she would not mention to anyone who the Lord Slytherin actually was. They decided to give each other the chance to date and figure out if they were compatible together. By this fashion, Daphne would retain her house-prestige while Harry's secret would remain safe from unwanted attractions. She had willingly agreed to his conditions then. But now...

She remembered the conversation she had with him...

 ** _"I'm sorry if you feel bad about it but I'm not very excited to marry a brash Gryffindor, how so ever modest you might be."_**

 ** _"Had I never met Malfoy, I would have been in Slytherin!" Harry replied with a laugh._**

 ** _"What do you mean?"_**

 ** _"I had met Malfoy on my first trip to Diagon Alley when I found out I was a wizard. He struck me as a pompous spoiled brat then. Again I met him on Hogwarts Express when I was sitting with Ron and Malfoy behaved completely like a bully would. Living what I have lived throughout my childhood, I have an aversion to Bullying and bullies. Malfoy went ahead to proclaim that he was the epitome of class in Slytherin and at that time, sending seven years in a dorm with him didn't seem like the brightest idea. The Hat offered me Slytherin, but I chanted "Not slytherin, Not Slytherin" until it finally decided to put me in Gryffindor. I landed with Ron and Hermione and spent the last 2 years wasting time doing things I shouldn't and making decisions I shouldn't. Not a very good trade I will give you that."_**

 ** _"So is Malfoy the reason why you and me are on opposite sides of the House Lines?" Daphne scoffed._**

 ** _"Kind of, yeah" Harry shrugged.  
"This is crazy!" Daphne sighed._**

Things had changed. She had seen the real Harry Potter upfront, he was sweet and caring, but at the same time, was cunning and sly beyond normal. And he willingly shared the truth about what happened in the chamber of secrets and his killing of the basilisk. He had developed a great friendship with her father, and knowing her father, that was saying something. So no, this was no brash Gryffindor. She wondered if Malfoy and Professor Snape had affected her perspective that much she had begun to observe others with tainted glasses. She decided to go to the Hospital wing after the feast.

* * *

Harry woke up and found himself lying on his familiar bed in the Hospital Wing.  
"This has to be some kind of record- landing in the hospital wing even before the term begins." Harry laughed to himself.

"I wouldn't be too happy with what happened if I were you Mr. Potter. You have had been in a coma since the last seven hours. Not a very good idea to start the new session with I tell you", she replied sarcastically. "Now, be a good boy and drink up the potions beside your bed and you are free to go."

"you can't just have a normal year; can you Potter?"

Harry looked up to see Daphne entering the Hospital wing. She strode up to his bed and sat beside him. "How are you now?"

"aww, you do care!" Harry teased.  
"Shut up!" Daphne deadpanned, hitting a punch on Harry's arm.

"Ow! Bloody woman! You are just violent! I just woke up from a coma for merlin's sake." Harry teased.  
 _Do all girls pack such strength?_ He wondered.

Together they left the Hospital wing after Harry dressed up, casting aside his hospital gown.  
"I wanted to introduce you to a few friends of mine, and I don't think I want to keep our betrothal secret. At least from my best friends. Somebody needs to keep an eye on you after all and I can't be everywhere all the time!" Daphne quipped.

"Feeling jealous already?" Harry teased.

"oh just shut up." Daphne returned with a teasing smile.

* * *

Tracy Davis was worried. The auburn-haired girl knew that something was wrong with her best friend, and that Daphne wasn't telling. After the feast, Daphne had then disappeared miraculously without mentioning anything to anyone.  
"What's the matter Theresa? Did your boyfriend leave you alone?" Blaise commented with a smirk.

"Don't call me that Zabini", she glared at him, "And no, Theo was feeling rather under the weather so he went off to his dorm."  
"And where is Daphne?"

"Why are you looking for me Blaise?" Daphne called out from behind him.  
"Daph! Where were you?" Tracy almost shouted, "and what is Potter doing here with you?"

"Tracy Davis, Blaise Zabini", Daphne introduced, "meet Harrison James Potter, the Lord Slytherin."

Blaise stood for a moment, stared at him and then asked Daphne," this isn't some joke right?"

"No." Daphne deadpanned.

"This isn't fair Potter. Last year everyone gave you the epithet of heir of Slytherin doesn't mean you will go ahead and just claim it's lordship." Blaise teased.

Harry smirked. Tracy realized something and smirking at Daphne, asked, "So why are you with him now Daph?"

"We are betrothed", Harry responded. Tracy's jaw dropped as Blaise smirked.

"You sure play rough Potter. We declare and taunt you as Slytherin's heir and in return you not only make us eat our words but also grab away the hottest girl in our team. No fair!" he taunted.

"Well, somebody had to do that," Harry said, enjoying the conversation," and to be honest, I did go to the Chamber of Secrets".  
"Did you really kill the basilisk?" Tracy asked, "Hogwarts rumor mill", she clarified at Harry's expression.

"Yes." Harry replied, not giving out any other information.

"You know, that makes it three times so far you have come out of extremely dangerous situations saving the day and yet your class performance has been nothing ... spectacular. One might think you were hiding your real power." Blaise taunted.

"One would be correct" Harry deadpanned, wiping off the smirk on Blaise's face," and all though I am enjoying this banter, I need to proceed to the Gryffindor dorms lest a search party is called in. Good night guys! Good night Daphne!"

"Good night Harry!"  
"Good night Potter! I mean Slytherin." Blaise finished with a smirk.

* * *

Harry had barely been able to enter the Gryffindor dormitory when a brown haired missile bodily attacked him, throwing him on the floor with a "oww!"  
"How are you Harry? What had happened? Where were you in the express? What happened with the Dementors? Did Dumbledore save you? He didn't tell us anything. When did you get off?" she rambled.

"Breathe, Hermione." Harry laughed aloud, "as for your questions," Harry thought hard for a second, "I'm fine. I was attacked by Dementors. In a private compartment. Dementors tried to suck in my soul. No I don't know who saved me. I got off some time ago." He paused for a while, "There, all in order." He smirked.

Hermione hit him hard on his arm.  
"oww! Bloody woman! Why are you all so violent?" Harry complained.

"Good to see you back mate!"  
Harry turned over to see Ron standing near the fireplace.  
"Thanks!" Harry muttered.

* * *

The classes were supposed to begin on Monday, but since the term began on Friday, the students were pleased to have two days to relax before they set their noses for the yearly grinder, also known as classwork. Harry took it as divine intervention telling him to go visit his favorite ancestor's portrait down the Chamber of secrets.

During the breakfast next morning, the students were provided with their schedules. Seeing his chance, Harry got up and asked, "Professor, is it possible to change my electives now?"

There are significant events that happen in life that come and go and yet hardly anyone cares. And then, there are seemingly insignificant events which brings everything to a standstill and the event becomes a center of attraction. Such an event happened when Harry put his question forward.

McGonagall turned to him and stared at him for a full minute. Never had Harry ever displayed any willingness to choose to study, at least not that she knew. Daphne looked up to him with a soft smile. Blaise and Tracy smirked. Malfoy turned up a haughty look. Snape sneered a bit more than usual. Dumbledore preened at him as if wanting to see him with a greater clarity than usual. Neville stayed silent, sneaking at Harry at intervals. Ginny looked down with a slight blush on her face. Hermione looked up with glassy eyes, filled with happiness that her friend was finally taking his education seriously. Ron threw up his ruminated piece of mutton and blurted out, "Have you gone mental mate?"

McGonagall turned up with a glare, "Why do you think that Mr. Weasley? If it's anything I'm proud that Potter is taking an interest in studies for once instead of goofing around. Perhaps you should take the same for consideration." Hermione glared at Ron who went back to gorging his food with no sense of decorum. Snape sneered more well... Snape-ly.

"I wanted to trade away Divination for Ancient runes and Arithmancy professor."

"Indeed?" McGonagall smiled, "not an issue Potter, I will make the appropriate changes and provide you with your schedule before lunch. Is that fine with you?"

"Thanks Professor. I assure you my academic progress this year will be nothing short of extra-ordinary."

McGonagall stared at him for a moment. "You do not make such statements lightly Potter. I shall expect nothing but excellence from you now onwards. Now, off you go", she messed up Harry's hair, and then strode back.

"Well, that went well!" Harry sighed.

* * *

That very night, Harry escaped using his invisibility cloak and descended into the Chamber of Secrets. After a quick Scourgify, he went inside the inner chamber, taking a look at the remains of the dead basilisk. _How the hell did I survive that one?_

"ah welcome back my heir, I was wondering when you would come back to meet your old man! Tell me, did the cleansing occur the way we hypothesized?"

"Yes, and No. Some complications occurred during and after the cleansing."

"Tell me everything."

* * *

Classes started off on Monday and just like Harry had promised, he was shining through every class. McGonagall was practically raving about how he had inherited his father's genes, and Flitwick more often than not, called him up for a charms demonstration. He took Ancient runes and Arithmancy like fish to water (not that it was a surprise since he had been studying runes since the last year and had advanced to more complex runic configurations. Babbling was practically babbling about him during the Teacher's meeting, what with the way he appeared to sail through the class and Vector nodded appreciation. Snape however, well let's just say he gave Harry an Acceptable in his potions. Looking at his prodigal skills, McGonagall decided to take a leap of faith and introduce him to a certain challenge.

* * *

It was a Wednesday morning in early November, and the third years had their Divination class followed by Transfiguration. When McGonagall displayed some of her most amazing transfigurations by changing a desk into a bear and then the bear into a fur ball and then throw the ball among the girls in the class, she immediately sensed something was wrong!

"What is wrong class?" she demanded.

"We just had our practical Divination class today professor and-" Lavender Brown blurted out.  
"Ah! Professor Trelawney! Tell me," she asked to the group in general, "who is going to die this year?"

"how did you know that Professor?" Parvati gasped.

"Every year Professor Trelawney predicts the death of at least one student. So who is it year?" McGonagall asked with an amused expression on her face.

"Something was wrong with my cup professor." It was Ron that answered. "The prediction says that my best friend's life is in danger." He glanced up at Harry. "the cup showed changing of paths of life and imminent danger and death." Parvati and lavender were almost in tears, glancing at Harry as if he would just drop dead any moment.

"Well..." Harry drawled, imitating Malfoy at his arrogant best, "It was nice to meet you all I guess. Shall I go and lie down in my grave Professor?"

McGonagall's lips twitched, amused. "well not to worry Mr. Potter, but I think you should continue your normal routine and work on finishing your homework fore today. I assure you that if you die, you need not submit it."  
Harry noticed her amused expression and grinned back in return.

* * *

"Professor? I received your note saying that you wanted me to meet you at six?" Harry inquired as he entered McGonagall's office.

"Yes Potter, I was most pleased with your performance this week. I have, in a way, decided to increase the difficulty level for you seeing that the classes don't really challenge you that well anymore."

"Thanks professor! What is this about?"

"Tell me Potter, what do you know about being an animagus?"

* * *

Things had really changed at Hogwarts this year. Ron was behaving as if Harry had betrayed him by leaving him alone in Divination. Hermione was behaving oddly and harry took it as slight jealousy on her part seeing harry ace through the classes better than her. _Quite hypocritical of her!  
_ He had found time for Daphne every week at least twice, and they spent some time together in the unused classroom on the third floor, the very same which once had housed the large Cerberus Fluffy. Mostly they spent time talking to each other or practicing and teaching each other spells. Daphne had remarked that Harry was a natural at teaching and Harry accepted her appreciation with a smile. He still had kept Salazar Slytherin's portrait a secret from everyone, even Daphne. It was something that belonged to him, at least for the time being. He took the animagus revealing potion that McGonagall had given him, drank it all up in a single gulp, and then fell fast asleep.

 **### finally, time for the animagus potion has arrived! I think Ron will soon leave the golden trio, or perhaps not! Lets see! Reviews, reviews everyone! I want some more opinions on animagus forms...quickly quickly! and perhaps I will do the next chapter by tonight, barring unforeseen circumstances**

 **######**


	9. ROTD 09 : Animagi and revelations

The forest was really dark. Deep thick and spiny vines erupted across the narrow path among the groves of trees made this place seem like some deep rainforest _._

 _Hold on, how am I in a rainforest?  
_ Then he remembered.. The Animagus Potion.

He looked around. The trees were way too tall for him. Even the crisscrossed vines on the floor appeared way too large and almost reached across his abdomen. How come they are so large? _Or am I... small?_

I need to move upwards... Hardly had the thought originated into his mind, he felt two thin skeletal looking wings on his back. The skin, a dark greying one, reminded him of that of a thestral.  
 _Am I a thestral?_

No he had arms. Thestrals do not have arms. Though he felt that whatever he was, some kind of thestral-ish fairy perhaps. The wings flapped as he quickly soared up into the thick canopy, crossing it faster than he thought possible, and soon enough he had crossed the canopy and landed on the bank of some... stream, it seemed. He looked at his reflection, and to be honest, was scared to death for the first time. He was a tiny elf-like creature, with skin almost identical to color and texture to that of a thestral, and yet had wings and could fly reasonably fast enough. His mouth had two tiny fangs on either side and looked almost predatory.

 _What am I?_

* * *

The stream suddenly vanished off and now once again he was flying. But this was different, this time, he felt powerful. He felt like a true predator. His eyes could view things down the ground with such clarity that for a moment he felt jealous of his animagus self. He swooped down, diving with power rebounding through him in waves, his claws flexing with rigidity and power as he pounced upon the ground. The land was barren with volcanic soil and he could see a hot spring nearby. Thinking the same as before, he stalked all the way on his two limbs towards the spring. Seeing his reflection for the first time, he thought that he was a dragon.

 _But don't dragons have four limbs?_

 _What are the chances that I have multiple animagus forms and yet I am unable to discern what they are? Gosh!_

He decided to see his reflection in greater detail. His body was covered in ash-green scales, reminding him of the scales of the basilisk he had killed. His face was dragon-like except that his front limbs were modified into wings with claws at the periphery. The hind limbs were identical to that of a dragon and he had a long, very long tail. But what was he? Suddenly he remembered reading something similar in the Eveningshade grimoire.

 ** _The Eveningshades kept dragons and wyverns, the latter being a cross between a dragon and a snake, for security of their fortresses. Accounts say that goblins got the idea of using dragons for vault security from them. Wyverns were employed in huge numbers, seeing as they had the strength of a dragon and yet, due to their smaller size, could be accommodated in smaller spaces effectively._**

 _So that's what I am? A wyvern? Like seriously?_

The scenery changed again, and this time it was a lush green grassland, _or was it a mountain valley_?  
Harry as running, fast, faster, faster... the wind was kissing through his face as he reached tremendous speeds, the feeling of riding his Nimbus 2000 kindling in his heart, as he elegantly dodged the obstacles on the way as he almost flashed out through them in his speed. His muscles felt powerful, _nothing out of ordinary after being a wyvern, really._ He raced through the valley and jumped through the running waters... wait, _waters?_

He looked down and observed himself. A great white wolf looked back at him in the reflection.

Well, this time it's hardly surprising! I had some expectations of being a wolf! Salazar even commented that I am a pack animal at heart. The wolf was larger than all he had ever seen before, and nearly four feet in length. Am I a dire wolf? He remembered reading about them when he used to see pictures of animals when they were shown in the television, hiding behind the doors of his cupboard. The dire wolf appeared to be an apex predator. _So I have speed, huh?_

* * *

The scene changed and he was back to that fiery meadow he was in, while he had been in coma. This was where his Slytherin magick had communicated with him. This was where he had been told about the soul piece existing within himself, and what he had to do in order to survive it. However, this time there was no mist. Only the flames.

"I have been watching you Harry Potter. Very closely in fact."

Harry sharply turned behind him to see who it was. It was an ethereal form of the wyvern that he had been in his animagus-induced dream.

"Why am I here? And who are you?"

"Me? I am your pyro-elemental core harry Potter. Brought into an ethereal existence by your animagus form. I am surprised you have not one, but two magical animagus forms. And a wyvern being a creature of fire, imparts me the ability to communicate with you, descendant."

"Should I be scared? I mean, the last time I was here, I did receive some dire warnings." Harry muttered mirthlessly.

If it were possible, the wyvern's face seemed to take form of a smirk. Or at least, a shallow imitation of a smirk at least, wyvern style! "No descendant, I am here to impart you the knowledge by which you can slowly familiarize yourself with your pyro kinetic ability. You have a natural affinity to fire. Use that affinity, let it flow in natural to you, don't hinder it. You shall understand what I mean. It shall enable you to unlock the powers of the wyvern and that would be the first step to your destiny!"

"will that help me reactivate the bloodline?"

"how am I supposed to know? I cannot see the future after all. Farewell Harry Potter."

"tell me one last thing... is this all real? This flamed meadow, you and everything I saw the last time I was here? Or is this happening inside my head?" Harry asked, somehow feeling his voice echoing out.

"of course this is happening inside your head Descendant. "the wyvern was no more visible now and the scene was blurring away, and the voice boomed in again, "but why should that mean, it is not real?"

* * *

Morning came, and Harry Potter decided to skive out History of Magic which they had in the afternoon in order to go to Salazar and try to figure out his unidentified animagus form. But first he had something to talk about to Professor McGonagall.

Today they were about to begin inanimate transfiguration. Harry though, thanks to McGonagall's new schedules, was to be practicing self-transfiguration after class in McGonagall's office. When the class ended, He strode up to her and just grinned.

"Mr. Potter, I assume you do have an animagus form?"

"Not 'a' professor, it seems I have _multiple_ animagus forms" Harry grinned.

A surprise turned amusement twitched in her face, "So tell me, what are they?"

"A wyvern and a dire wolf. And there was another tiny elf like creature, but I could not identify it yet. Is there some way you could perhaps see it?"

"A ... _wyvern_? Mr. Potter what do you know about being a magical animagus?" McGonagall stuttered, her expression completely opposite to the stern look that always stood on her face.

"It's ... rare?" Harry supplied.

"Not everyone has an animagus form. But yes, having multiple animagus form is rare. In fact, the last known wizard to have a multiple animagus form lived around 600 years ago. But a magical animagus form? I have never heard of it, except that one of the founders was one, although which one, I do not know."

 _Well, it's good that I have someone with a greater amount of clarified knowledge about the founders then..._

"Magical animagi are very, very rare, and there is supposed to be a reason for it, though I do not know what it is. Not a very extensive research has been done on this subject since the number of magical animagi in known history can be counted in one hand, and most of them, for obvious reasons, were highly reclusive. It's not a question of power, I'm sure of that. For else Headmaster would be one, and I know his form is a goat." She almost giggled, "So although I won't be of any help in mastering your wyvern form, I can of course aid you in attaining your dire wolf form. As for the unidentified one, you are on your own. Consider this another challenge Potter. Good work. You make your parents proud. I know, James would never shut up about how you have not one but three magical forms, and Lily would be so enthusiastic about you being a magical animagus." She replied, wiping away a lone tear from her face.

Harry's eyes were shining with pride and excitement. After a decade of being called and treated as a "freak" and "worth-less brat", Harry had difficulty accepting any kind of appreciation. It was one of the reasons why he used to prefer staying in the background. The more the hype of the "Boy-who-lived" tried to push him into the limelight, the more he stuck to the shadows trying to be a "normal" and "just-another-happy-go-lucky" boy. And somehow, that exactly fitted his needs. The **boy-who-lived** was expected to be good at Defense, and so he let his skills be acknowledged in that field. But nobody wanted to know what the son of James and Lily Potter was good at. That he was a natural at Runes, that transfiguration and most of the visual-minded magical arts felt natural to him, didn't matter to anyone. For the shadow of the **Boy-who-lived** was enough to cover for the existence of one Harry James Potter. The Dursleys never wanted him to shine more than even Dudley, who was among the low scorers in the class. He had been cooking since he was five, and could do his potions better than anyone in the class. Not that it mattered, for Snape would always think of him as a spoiled brat, and never mark him as beyond acceptable even if his work was flawless. Even his friends were more than happy with that. Hermione could top every class and have that smug smile and boss him around, and Ron could be happy because he had someone who would play chess (and lose to him, feeding his ego) and talk about Quidditch all day.

But now, the tables had turned. Salazar's words had struck a raw nerve in him. No longer would he pretend to be something, he wasn't. He was going to shine, and if he ever wanted to be his own man, the sole way would be rise further and greater than the moniker of being the **Boy-Who-Lived**. That he slayed an eighty feet basilisk was his victory, his first blow against the hated moniker. That he was a magical animagus was second. That he had three animagus forms would be the third. Harry wanted others to appreciate him for what he was, not because he was the **Boy-Who-Lived**. And he realized, that if trying to ignore his fame wouldn't help, he might as well acknowledge it and use it.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, he escaped into the Chamber of Secrets without being spotted. Salazar had told him of all the entry points to the Chamber. His personal favorite, the ante-chamber where the first year students usually stood before entering the hall. There was another one, next to McGonagall's office but somehow he decided to stay away from that site. It won't do him good to let his secret blow up.

"Evening Descendant, did you finally know your animagus form?" Salazar's voice rang across the inner chamber.

"Yes. And I have three forms, and at least one of them is magical. Though I cannot yet determine my third form yet."

"Indeed?" Salazar looked at him with appreciation, "and what are they? Or better, show me."

"How?"

"Allow me to introduce you to the Mirror of Possibilities. This artifact was gifted to me by Rowena on my twentieth-year celebration as Head of House Slytherin."

"What does it do?"

"In my days, there wasn't any such Animagus revealing potion. The apprentices back then, had to master Occlumency, at least to their third levels, and then try finding their forms by meditation. It was essential that finding an animagus form should be done by the age of fourteen, for the more a child ages, the more does his animagus form become difficult to master. Think of it as the difference between subduing a young animal and an adult. Being an animagus essentially means self-transfiguring yourself to the animal form you are most closely mentally matched, and yet, not losing the battle of wills to your animal mind, which is more primal than your human self, at least in emotions. And in magic, especially such esoteric as being an animagus, emotion is everything."

Harry looked at the said artifact in silence. Said artifact in question looked nothing spectacular at first sight. There seemed to be a rather large silver mirror, and at the base there was a chalice of some sort. "How does this work?"

"This mirror was very effective in identifying possible animagus forms for the kind of student who had not yet mastered his third-level Occlumency and was quickly approaching his fourteenth birthday. A sample of the apprentice's blood needs to be inserted into the chalice and a spell needed to be cast. The possible animagus forms would be displayed in the mirror, the scene similar to the dream in which you identify your form for the first time. However, for your case the mirror should help us in identifying the third form."

"Well, here goes nothing..." Harry muttered, as he took a rather sharp looking blade that was lay beside the chalice and sliced his palm. He then let a few drops fall into the chalice.

"Now the spell, **_ostendere bestia_** , the wand movements don't matter as it is esoteric. Focus on your animal form if you would; makes for a clearer vision."

" ** _ostendere bestia",_** Harry intoned, as the mirror glowed with a greenish tinge.

The mirror began to show the animagus induced dream again, and Harry watched with Salazar who was almost failing from twitching his lips into a laugh. After the wyvern was displayed, he was in awe and then after the dire wolf was done with, Salazar commented, "Well... that was something I didn't expect. I had always thought magical animagi were a rather fluke of nature."

"Why so?"

"It's because unlike animals, magical creatures can feel far more complex emotions and possess a thought process and intellect rivalling humans. They have distinct personalities and societies with independent values, it makes harder for humans to represent them with simple singular meanings. Therefore, it's not possible for a human to adapt their psyche to that of magical creatures; a non-magical animal on the other hand can be used to represent our basest desires and instincts."

"Did you know anyone who had a magical form?" Harry questioned.

"Why yes, I knew two! Although I was shocked to the core to find Godric being one of them."

"What was his form? And who was the other?"

"Godric's form was a manticore. Somehow it suited his over-aggressive personality. Always wanting to have a fight rather than solve it using cool logic. Big brawn Gryffindor! That man never grew up after the after of eighteen. Made my life hell trying to re-transfigure the snake statues here after he transfigured them into monkeys. The other was my wife Evolette."

"What was her form?" Harry asked.

"A phoenix." Salazar replied, reverence in his voice, "An augurey, to be precise, also called Irish-Phoenix."

"What was your form?"

"I had two forms," Salazar said with an obvious amount of pride in his voice, "A pit viper and a falcon. Rowena was a moon-owl, a rather extinct creature even at my time. Helga was a Leopard. Peverell, well he was a Smilodon, or sabre-tooth if you will. Having multiple animagus wasn't quite rare in my time, though it was held in reverence as a testament to a wizard or witch's indomitable will and magical potential. However, your three forms may have something to do with the different family magicks prevailing in your body and also due to the fact that you have varying levels of emotional experience throughout your life till now."

"Do you know what my first form is?"

"An Imp. It's funny and sad that you have an Imp form. They were forest dwellers that lived in the ages of High elves. It was believed they were a cursed line of descendants of the High Elf. Fond of pranks, they were devilish tricky blighters. More devilish than Cornish Pixies, but fast enough to rival an eagle if they desired. An Imp form will be an excellent choice for espionage."

Harry laughed, somehow knowing exactly what part of him matched up with the Imp form.

"A wyvern, on the other hand, is an apex predator. Some view them as vile, greedy and dangerous, but you must understand that they represent forces of nature, power, stability and metamorphosis. As strong as a dragon at its best, and yet could outfly the fastest broomstick, agility and power at their combined best. If you want to win an all-out war, all you need is to let off a wyvern at the enemy." He paused for a while, "the dire wolf on the other hand, predator among animals, Fastest and strongest of wolves, and yet normally leads a solitary life. A lone hunter if you will. Strongly protective of its pack. You should try attaining this form before you try the others."

"The wyvern spoke to me, saying that it was an essence of my pyro-elemental ability"

"Really?", Salazar drawled with interest shining in his eyes, "Details, details!"

* * *

 **###that brings me to an end on animagus discussion. The next few chapters will possibly be about the normal third-year life and perhaps an insight into the life of Sirius Black. A meeting with Dumbledore, that too!**

 **#Talking of Dumbledore, there are two overhyped forms of Dumbledore, the first where he is evil and a dark lord in hiding, and the other in which he is a manipulative "greater-good" boss who ignores the ailments of all others. I want a middle path, making him more human, more susceptible to mistakes but nevertheless, a good person at heart.**

 **# ostendere bestia : reveal animal** **#coming up.. a date with Daphne, and of course, the marauder's map and the boggart!**

 **## review! review!**

 **Adios,**

 **Arcturus Peverell**.


	10. ROTD 10 : The Boggart

It was time for the Defense against the Dark Arts class, with the new _ragged_ Professor Remus Lupin (something about the name struck a chord in Harry though he couldn't quite _place_ the feeling). The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in.

His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains

Neville LongBottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Neville went scarlet. Harry glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this _was_ something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnegan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin.

"Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks —I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. _This_ one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if

the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will

frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

Professor Lupin then proceeded to make everyone learn the Boggart-banishing spell. The spell could repel it by forcing it to assume an amusing form rather than a terrifying one. The trick was knowing what your biggest fear was, having an idea for how to make that fear into something funny, and being fast enough to do so before you fell completely under the boggart's sway. At the best of times, boggart exposure was often embarrassing, but if one's greatest fear stemmed from an actual traumatic event, the boggart could often force its victim to relieve the experience _and_ the attendant trauma.

"Right then," said Lupin amiably. "I've watched you all demonstrate the Boggart-Banishing spell to my satisfaction. You all have the wand work and incantation down. The only question now is whether you can demonstrate both while maintaining the required mental framework. Now, you may have noticed that there were a number of chairs out in the hall. I'll ask you all to step outside and wait until I call you in. I have prepared you all to face your boggart-fears as much as possible short of direct exposure. However, some of you may still find the experience disturbing, possibly even traumatic, especially if your greatest fear turns out to be something other than what you were expecting and you are unable to use the defensive charm properly. In any case, it would be the height of irresponsibility for me to let any of you face a boggart untested with all your classmates watching, to say nothing of a breach of your privacy and trust. Mr. LongBottom, you're first. Everyone else, outside."

After five minutes, Neville returned from the class room, holding a chocolate piece in his hand, sweating profusely.

"You okay?" Harry asked. Neville nodded and returned back to the Gryffindor dorms.

"Miss Patil, you are next!" Lupin's voice boomed from inside.

Soon enough, it was Harry's turn. "Alright, Mr. Potter. Do you feel confident that you know your fear? And how to transform it into something amusing?" Harry answered yes to both questions. "Very good. Now draw your wand, move to within a few feet of the trunk, and nod when you're ready for me to open it."

Harry wondered what his fear was. First he thought of Voldemort's face sticking out of Quirrel's head, but he remembered that he _had_ burnt it to a crisp. He thought of the wraith in the Forbidden Forest, but Firenze had driven that off before it could hurt Harry. He thought of the Dementor but then...

The door of the wardrobe opened and a black mist floated out. A rattling breath issued out of the mist as it took the shape of a Dementor. Harry was just about to cast the spell when the Dementor pounced on him, about to suck his soul out. Harry tried to hold back, but it wasn't possible. His mind was filled with screams, his mother begging for his life, the dark shadow about to cast the green killing curse...

" ** _Riddiculus_**!" Lupin intoned.

He pulled Harry up to his feet, and gave him chocolate.

"I'm sorry Harry, I didn't expect that the boggart would pounce upon you. Dementors must have a greater than normal effect on you. Please, go back to your dorms and rest, I will send a note saying that you are to be excused for the rest of the day. Send Miss Brown in as you leave."

Harry was shocked, embarrassed, frightened, anxious and suffering from a variety of emotions including a deep reminiscing fear of dread. The words of the mist had shaken him to the core, and the presence of Dementors' aura hadn't done it any better. He ran all the way back to the Chamber, not stopping until he reached Salazar's chamber.

* * *

"Why are you out of breath Harrison?" Salazar inquired, a bit concerned.

Harry narrated the happenings to him, right from when he had entered to face the boggart. Salazar listened in silence, only speaking when he felt Harry was done with his story.

"I have a theory. Although I'm afraid you will not like the implications of it if my theory serves right!"

"Tell me!" harry deadpanned.

"Family magick is esoteric, and as is with all esoteric forms of magick, is highly dependent on the importance of emotion. Your positive emotions and vibes strengthens your connection on your family magick, and the opposite also the reverse is true. It appears that the dementor's aura somehow strengthens the soul piece, or at least weakens your connection to your family magick, letting the soul piece in you get a bit closer to latching on your core. So that presents us a two-way problem."

At Harry's nod, he continued, "Your esteemed ministry has put Dementors to protect the school as you had put it. Given how you react to their aura, the Dementors will try to attack you again and again. Your childhood contains memories significantly worse than most, which is basically the Dementors' idea of a feast. It goes without saying you need to avoid them completely. However, should they attack you, you need to defend yourself."

"Is there a spell to ward off against Dementors?"

"There is, it's called the _Patronus Charm_. An esoteric spell so the wand motion doesn't really matter. The incantation is " _Expecto Patronum_ " and given what I know of your magical potential, you should have no problem casting it, at least after a couple of practice sessions. The real problem is, however on a different level."

Salazar paused for a while and then continued, "To master the Patronus truly, you need to practice it before a Dementor, or a boggart that takes the form of a Dementor. However, you cannot afford to do that."

Harry lowered his head, disappointed, had another question, "isn't there any other alternatives?"

"Well, there is another alternative, though I'm not sure if you will be able to do it, yet. Dementors being a derivative of the essence of shadows, has its roots in soul magic. Like any other applications of soul magic, it is vulnerable to fire."

"So will a simple _Incendio_ work against the Dementors?"

"No. Only stronger forms of fire. Shadow magic is vulnerable to only four kinds of fire, namely Fiendfyre, Phoenix fire, Dragon Breath, and elemental fire. You being a fire elemental, could use your elemental ability to spew flames and defend yourself against Dementors. Although remember, emotion is everything. Your elemental core is tuned to your emotions. Believe it, and you can do it. I know you can."

* * *

It was Friday. The next day was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the season. Students, especially the third years were anticipating in wonder about it, it being their first time that they had been allowed to visit Hogsmeade. Even Daphne, whose icy countenance betrayed any emotion, was feeling excited about visiting some place out of the gray castle.

Harry Potter came out, amiably chatting up to Neville about Herbology, which was Neville's area of expertise.; quickly followed by Hermione and Ron who were once again bickering about Crookshanks and Scabbers. Crookshanks was Hermione's pet, a fluffy kneazle, and as could be heard, Ron was trying hard to convince Hermione to get rid of her " _monster of a pet_."

"So do you think you will be able to convince McGonagall to let you go to Hogsmeade? I know the situation is different what with Sirius Black being in the open and all." Hermione asked harry, who was busy sipping his drink. "Don't worry Hermione, I can make McGonagall fall to my charms!" harry tried to tease. Hermione huffed.

* * *

"Professor, could I request a moment of your time in private?"

Minerva McGonagall was a stern witch and a follower of rules. No matter what anyone would say, she believed in fair play and was always unbiased towards all houses and fair in her dealings with the students. We will just ignore her feelings and actions when it came to Quidditch in this case. It wasn't that she is obsessed with winning it for the Gryffindor, she was just interested and happy for the students. Well, not like Severus at least, in any case.

She turned to her left to see Potter asking her a question.

"Yes Potter. Come to my office after breakfast then. Although I wish you would not ask me again to reconsider my decision to allow you to Hogsmeade."

"Sure thing Professor."

Harry had previously tried twice to convince her to allow him to go to Hogsmeade but it was futile. In fact, he well remembered her words the last time they had spoken about it.

 ** _"I'm sorry Potter but because your muggle guardians did not provide you with their permission slip, allowing you to visit Hogsmeade on weekends, I cannot in any conscience allow you to go there. Especially in the current conditions, what with Sirius Black on the loose."_**

 ** _"But you know about my relatives, madam. You know they hate me. If you would just sign for me..."_**

 ** _"You know Professor Dumbledore, doesn't believe in your accusations Potter. Sorry, I can't do that."_**

* * *

Entering into McGonagall's office, harry sat on the chair. He had wanted to keep his headship of familia Potter a secret, but well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Say Potter, how can I help you."

Harry shook his right arm and pointed his fist in front of her eyes, the large signet Potter ring reappeared in all its glory. The griffin depicted in it silently roared.

"I didn't know you were emancipated, Lord Potter."

"Not Lord yet Professor, just the Head of Family yet. I will be the Lord when I reach seventeen. However, I would prefer it if you could give this matter a bit of discretion. I would appreciate people, and especially Professor Dumbledore, not knowing about it, at this moment."

McGonagall wanted to ask the reason but the expression on Harry's face stopped her midway.

"As you wish, Mr. Potter."

* * *

Hermione was in a somber mood. Things were so different this year. And most of all was Harry. Since first year, she and Ron and Harry were almost attached to the hips. All the adventures, the happenings and the life-death situations, they were together every time. But now, things had changed. Harry was getting better and better. At first, she was happy to see that he was taking interest in his studies. But after some days, the situation was something else. While she was having difficulty in managing to finish off assignments and classwork, Harry was practically sailing through class. McGonagall was positively raving about his accomplishments. Even Flitwick, who was a rather impartial and laid-back kind of professor, now brought harr up for mock duels and demonstrations. Even Snape could hardly complain much about him ever. At first, she thought that it was just interest or that he was provided with the time-turner she had asked for, but was denied by Professor McGonagall. How else could he have gone so much better? She was the brightest witch of her age, even McGonagall said so. And then let's not forget about his random vanishing off to merlin-knows-where. The previous harry she knew and was comfortable with was completely different, he was timid and would let her _convince_ and _show them how to do_ stuff. He hated his fame and stuck to the shadows. The new Harry however, was different. He was as if, almost embracing his fame and using it to make new connections. Last year, he was almost staying hidden throughout the year, while his year, he seemed to have built a joint group comprising of students from all houses. This Harry wore his fame like one of the stylish robes he now wore. Had something happened to him in the chamber? Was he under some sort of mental _influence_?

She looked at Harry sitting at the HufflePuff table. He was sitting between Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott on one side and Neville and Blaise Zabini on the other. Daphne Greengrass ( _how she hated that girl_ ) sat on his opposite with Tracy Davis and Theodore Nott. All of them seemed to have fun together. Somehow Hermione didn't think Harry even noticed her absence in the group. It hurt her that he no longer needed her as he once did. Now he had other friends to study with and help him on his homework. If his recent improved performance in class was anything to go by, she secretly figured they were doing his homework for him. To her, it was no longer a far fetch that Harry would cheat on school.

* * *

Harry Potter was having fun. Being with a new and wider group of friends suited him better than before. Before this, he only had Ron and his obsession with chess and Chuddley Cannons, and Hermione and her obsession with knowing secrets and studies. Now however, his friends were very different. Susan and Hannah were very bubby and outgoing, with Hannah a bit more teasing while Susan would just be a little silent from time to time. Tracy was a tease, plain and simple. Neville was silent and an introvert, but he could be a good friend and knew what he said, whenever he contributed to the discussion that is. Blaise was an enigma. He would simply float along the edges of everyone's consciousness until he would suddenly nail someone with a sarcastic remark. Theo was more outgoing, though he preferred philosophical and intellectual discussions. He would quote different philosophical quotes on the fly. And Daphne was, well... Daphne.

Harry had been planning to ask Daphne out for Hogsmeade. He decided to call on his Gryffindor courage and suddenly asked her in presence of everyone, "Hey Daphne, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade tomorrow as my date?"

Daphne's cheeks reddened. Susan and Hannah were completely gob smacked. Blaise smirked. Tracy grinned at him. Theo looked a bit confused. Neville smiled weakly. Daphne blushed and replied. "yes"

"Great then!" harry said, wiping off an imaginary sweat off his face," tomorrow morning at eleven then?"

"Sure." Daphne grinned.


	11. ROTD 11 : Date with Daphne

**### Finally a bit into Ron's POV. Enjoy the story!**

Ron was becoming very frustrated. It has been three months since the start of term and Harry had yet to apologize for his behavior at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry didn't have any other true friends and so he expected within a day or two, he would be crawling back, trying to mend the breaches in their friendship. Rather, what happened was the opposite. After returning from school, the maximum he got out of him was some open-ended conversations.

Now though as he watched Harry sitting with that slimy snake in potions, he was ever so angry. Not only did he not seem to care about their past friendship, he had gone and replaced him with two Slytherins. They probably were just interested in him because of his fame and money and would soon betray him.

Now it was up to him to save Harry from the slimy snakes and bring him back to the light. Harry will surely apologize and repay him later. Harry never would have received even more fame and money than he rightly deserved. If it wasn't for him, Harry would still be nothing. It was him that convinced Harry to go down to the chamber of secrets, him that beat the chessboard so he could go on to get the philosophers stone. He was the one that rescued him from his relatives at the start of the second year. It was him that drove the car and flew Harry to Hogwarts. The least Harry owed him was some share in the fame and wealth.

Even Hermione had agreed with him. It was his mission to get Harry away from those slimy snakes and though the Hermione didn't say anything, surely she too thought the same.

Also Neville? He couldn't get over that Harry had replaced him with a near squib. It was rather insulting, but Harry was never one to be smart and probably desperately reached out for any friend he could get. Soon they will be back in the Gryffindor common room playing wizard chess, maybe Harry will even switch back to divination as well. Runes is obviously just a waste of time and too much work.

The only good thing going on right now for him was Hermione. After Harry had left in the summer to vanish off to nowhere, they had grown closer. They weren't arguing as much and now had a common goal of getting Harry to come back to them.

* * *

Harry met Daphne at the entry gates. He could see Filch moving and waving all those artifacts rather whimsically and being followed by Mrs. Norris, the dishrag he called a cat. Harry gifted her with another bouquet of Daphne flowers to her surprise.

"My flowers, Harry? And fresh too? I didn't know you got them at Hogwarts." Daphne asked.

'Well, I felt it appropriate for our first date, considering your name.' He said smoothly. 'Besides, it is the best I could find that was fresh. I don't think you'd appreciate flowers under preservation charms. I think those are too impersonal.' They barely noticed Seamus's yelps as Filch took care to prod him a bit harder than normal.

 _Detention perhaps?_

The couple strolled into Honey Dukes, which was rather famous for its variety of chocolates and confectionaries. In fact, Albus Dumbledore was a major customer of that shop himself, and considering his addiction to sweets, that was saying something. Daphne wanted to buy some chocolates for herself, and Harry... well, he was enjoying being with Daphne.

Harry knew from Daphne's sister that both girls had quite a sweet tooth. Astoria had mentioned once that she used to sneak some chocolates from Daphne's private stash, and had done so regularly till her older sister had caught her in the act and hexed her to next week and back.

Their shopping done, and with three bags between the two of them, Harry and Daphne headed for the Three Broomsticks. Suddenly Harry spotted the minister of magic Cornelius Fudge entering into the Three Broomsticks along with Minerva McGonagall and Flitwick. Something told him that this was important, and he led Daphne along with him into the bar.

"Daph, I want you to play interference for some time, so that I can enter into their room and listen to what they are talking about. Will you?"

Daphne's eyes widened. She knew about Sirius Black and the different evidences that Harry had about him. Harry had talked to her, about how he thought that there was a slight chance that he was innocent. She also knew what the public and the ministry thought about that. However, her father _never even_ _implied_ that he thought Sirius Black had any connections with You-Know-Who. In fact, he often wondered how a Black could be so puritanical.

"Okay, I will do it. But I owe you one, Harrison."

* * *

After a long enjoyable day, Harry and Daphne were returning back to school from their date. All in all, it was a good one. Somehow, Daphne felt she could be comfortable living with Harry as his wife. Harry was completely different from how Snape and Malfoy have spoken about him in their common room.

"Let's walk back to Hogwarts."

"Sure you don't want the carriages?" Harry intoned.

"No. Let's just walk together. I just wanted to spend some more time alone with you."

Harry smiled.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was having a bad year. The blond Slytherin sighed as he held his throbbing head in one hand. And to think that a few months before, when he had returned home from school, he was actually _excited._ His father had mentioned that he was going to talk with the Greengrass family and set up a marriage contract between him and Daphne. He had high hopes that he would soon have that _conniving high-strung bitch_ down in front of him, _pleasuring_ him. But rather the opposite had happened. Cyrus Greengrass had not only refused the offer but also stated that Daphne was betrothed to some Lord of an Ancient and noble House. Draco may not be cunning enough to be a proper Slytherin, but he was cunning enough to check up for details. There wasn't any single Lord remaining of an Ancient and noble House. So either Lord Greengrass was bluffing, or there was something. _else_.

The next thing on his mind was Harry Potter. Potter was a complete enigma this year. It was like some high strung pureblood had taken over Potter's body and mind. His behavior was no longer Grffindorish, why if rumors were to be believed, he and Greengrass were dating. Greengrass, the object of his wet dreams, and Potter had to, just had to date her, and Greengrass actually agreed to that on the first place. Even Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, both high purebloods, now spent more time hanging with Potter and the HufflePuffs than with him _Draco Malfoy, of the Noble House of Malfoy, Future Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. The epitome of Slytherin_. He had tried to get a rise out of Potter the previous day but things had gone awry. He remembered...

 _The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast and so all of the students began to get up to head off to class. Harry headed to the dungeons with Neville who had joined him at the tail end of breakfast. The other third year Gryffindors followed them into the dungeons where they came across the waiting Slytherins who were grouped up with them for potions._

 _"Daphne. Tracy. A pleasure." Harry said, walking up to the two girls. He was well aware of the other fourth years watching him._

 _"Harry, how are you?" Tracy asked kindly, smirking at the other students. Neville was just behind him looking as nervous as ever but with that same determined look from last night._

 _"I'm good. Maybe we should partner up? I could use the help in potions."_

 _Daphne scoffed, "Please, and like we would want to lose our grade. It's well known that Professor Snape hates you."_

 _"Good point. I would hate to ruin your grade. You-"_

 _"Potter!" The familiar drawl of Malfoy cut him off. "What do you think you're doing?" He walked up, stepping in front of him and Daphne. Crabbe and Goyle were just behind him trying to look imposing._

 _"I don't know Malfoy, trying to talk to a couple of beautiful girls?" Harry answered lazily. This had the effect of only angering the Prince of Slytherin more._

 _"You don't have permission to talk to them!"_

 _"Why would he need permission to talk to us?" Daphne asked defiantly stepping into Draco's face. This was the full Ice Queen persona on display. Her mask was so cold and emotionless it made even Harry shiver._

 _This caught Draco off-guard. "Because I didn't give him permission! He's just a half-blood and shouldn't speak with his superiors!" Draco said haughtily._

 _"Superiors being who? You? Your father?" Harry couldn't keep the smirk off his face as Daphne laid into him._

 _Everyone watched quietly as the famous ice queen broke that persona for once, a cruel smirk playing across her face, "You're pathetic Draco. Just a spawn of your worthless father who holds no worth in our world. If he didn't have money, your family would be nothing. The Potters and Greengrass' were influential magical families long before yours. While the Malfoys were fucking goats in the French countryside, our families were shaping the world."_

 _The other students burst into laughter as Draco's face reddened. He pulled his wand and on instinct Harry stepped in front of Daphne. "Don't think about it Malfoy."_

 _Draco had tried to hit him with a Furnunculus but harry spun back and reflected his spell onto him. As Draco's face erupted in boils, Harry and Daphne walked away._

* * *

Harry and Daphne walked through the wild snowy path that lay connecting Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. They were chatting up merrily when suddenly, the weather turned cold. The temperature suddenly started to fall they could feel their breaths condense to misty vapors in front of them.

"Not again! Run!" Harry shouted, as he took Daphne's hand and ran, trying to reach the school gates as quick as possible.  
"Harry! What's happening?"

"Dementors. Behind us.", Harry spoke amidst deep breaths as they ran. Daphne's shoes slipped on a twig as she fell down, bruising badly due to the speed in which they were running.

"Daphne!" Harry screamed.

Two Dementors strode out of nowhere and surrounded them in their mist completely. Harry was rendered powerless by their aura as screams hit his mind with full force. Daphne was shivering like anything, as she lay on the ground, unable to move. Her helplessness instigated a spark in him...

" _Not Harry, please… have mercy… have mercy…"_

 _I have to Protect her..._

 _"Harry!"_

 _"Harry!" Daphne screamed in despair._

 _Daphne! I have to protect her!_

 _Harry glanced at her, and felt something deep within him rise. He remembered Salazar's words..._

 _"Well, there is another alternative, though I'm not sure if you will be able to do it, yet. Dementors being a derivative of the essence of shadows, has its roots in soul magic. Like any other applications of soul magic, it is vulnerable to fire."_

 _"So will a simple Incendio work against the Dementors?"_

 _"No. Only stronger forms of fire. Shadow magic is vulnerable to only four kinds of fire, namely Fiendfyre, Phoenix fire, Dragon Breath, and elemental fire. You being a fire elemental, could use your elemental ability to spew flames and defend yourself against Dementors. Although remember, emotion is everything. Your elemental core is tuned to your emotions. Believe it, and you can do it. I know you can."_

His hand lifted up as if on its own accord. His wand remained fallen where it was. Fallen in the dust. His eyes glowed a brilliant shade of green. _A ring of gold surrounded his green pupils_. His hand started to heat up as he stood up, semi-conscious of his surroundings. His mind was filled with one _primal_ emotion.

 _I have to protect Daphne..._

Flames. Orange and Crimson Flames spewed out of his hand. The Dementors near him screamed as the flames burned them down. The rattling breath was no longer there to be heard. Instead, a loud screech prevailed as the two Dementors were burned by the awesome power of elemental fire. Fire, hotter than any other, at par with the Fiendfyre from hell and as deadly as Phoenix or Dragon Fire, burnt away the Dementors' cloak to shreds. The pieces of the cloak fell on the white sparkling snow. It was almost... _beautiful_.

"Harry! Harry wake up! Harry?"

Harry lay, unconscious, on the snowy ground, with a satisfied smile on his face...

* * *

After a day's rest under supervision of Madam Pomfrey and a down-right-worried Daphne Greengrass, Harry was free to go the next day. Harry knew he had to go down to Salazar's chamber to talk about the _happenings_.

"What happened Descendant? I wasn't really expecting you down here so soon. Didn't you say you had a date with your betrothed? I had thought you would be busy romancing!"

"Yeah. well, I had something to ask you about."

"Ah, another magical theory lesson, is it?" Seeing the look on Harry's face, he continued, "Well tell me what the matter is! Don't just stand there gawking!"

Harry told him all about the happenings, how he was attacked by the Dementors, how he had been rendered powerless, how he suddenly went almost unconscious and suddenly his hand was spewing flames, how he had a tunnel vision which was fueled by the need to save Daphne, and how he fell unconscious later.

"I want to know about the fires you mentioned the last day. How can I access them? You had said that Fiendfyre was the strongest of them all, but not how to create it. Tell me how to cast Fiendfyre."

"You are an idiot Potter. That's what you are. An ignorant idiot. Do you know what takes to cast Fiendfyre?" Salazar rebuked.

"No." Harry mumbled, shocked at Salazar's reaction.

"Hmm. Listen to me and listen well..." he began. Harry sat down before the portrait, ready to learn.

* * *

Fred and George Weasley were the prank masters of Hogwarts. At least, that's what they believed them to be. If there was anyone above them in the noble art of pranking, that was the Marauders. Said prank masters were about to leave the Gryffindor dormitory to conduct their noble art once more, when they noticed their ickle Hermione holding up a diary and inspecting for spells.

"What's up ickle Hermionekinns?" they chorused together.

"What are you" Fred began, "doing this fine morning?" George ended.

"In the Boy's dormitory?" they finished together.

"Oh shut up you lot! I think something is wrong with Harry. Though I have suspicions, but he has been reading this diary most of the time he is in the Dormitory. The first page has something written, I thought it was a spell, but it doesn't seem like it. Have you ever heard this word "Prongs"?

Fred and George looked at each other sharply.

* * *

"Students of the Dark Arts know that some spells, most notably the Killing Curse and the Cruciatus Curse require that the caster truly _hate_ someone. It need not be the person targeted by the spell when it is actually cast, but the wizard must have _someone_ who he truly hates enough to see dead or tortured, respectively, for either spell to be successfully cast on any target. Such an emotion is inadequate for Fiendfyre, however. It is one of the few spells for which the spell's name and its effect are synonymous, for there is almost no danger of accidentally casting it due to its rare and difficult esoteric requirements. It is not enough to hate someone or something to cast Fiendfyre. The wizard must hate someone or something so much that _any amount of collateral damage is acceptable_ if it means destroying the object of his hatred. It means that the wizard would be happy to _die himself_ if he can only see the object of his hatred be annihilated first. Of course, the wizard doesn't need to die to cast Fiendfyre, only be _willing_ to do so."

Harry listened in silence, until Salazar spoke again, "So tell me Lord Slytherin, do you hate the Dementors so much that you can _afford_ to have the world burn, that you would be _willing_ _to let the_ _world be burned, including yourself_ , if it means you could win?"

"No." mumbled Harry. "Thought so... "Salazar commented.

"You know very well that phoenixes are peaceful creatures, who will not use their fire to burn anything unless _the fate of the world_ is in concern. When you were being hunted by my basilisk, even then that phoenix didn't help you with its fire, just with its tears. Had it used its fire, my _Serena_ would be reduced to ashes."

"Serena? Your basilisk was called Serena?"

"Yes. That reminds me, how did you actually kill her?"

"I stabbed it by the head using a sword" Harry began.

"It had better not be that goblin-made atrocity that Godric used to wave around, would it?" Salazar questioned, his eye twitching.

"it was _exactly that_ sword", Harry said, amused.

Salazar let off a number of swear-words in Parseltongue, enough for Harry to think about _Scourgifying_ his ears later.

* * *

Salazar sighed," Not that I'm complaining. Pet or not, she was insane because she broke the commandments I placed upon her."

"Commandments?"

"Yes." Salazar continued, "She was here to protect the students as the last line of defense against the filthy muggle heathens in case the wards fell. We were a rather gifted number of wizards, but the students were not. We had to protect them. So each one of us came up with a unique set of protections. The statues on the corridors of Hogwarts aren't for show. They contain the souls of enemies of Eveningshade family, trapped in the shell forever. Godric and Evolette used a complex weave of magic to bind them to the statues and remain as Hogwarts protectors in case of attacks. You don't think that Hogwarts had existed for over a millennium without protections. Did you?"

At Harry's denial, he continued, "Helga came up with the idea of an impenetrable magical forest to surround the Hogwarts's forests. It is called "enchanted forest" for a reason."

'Enchanted forest? As in forbidden forest?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes. The name was changed later on. Going into the Enchanted Forest is an adventure, but going into the Forbidden Forest is dangerous!" Salazar laughed.

"Rowena created a magical room of illusions somewhere within the castle. She and I were having a bit of a quarrel so she never told me where the room was. I believe it is somewhere on the seventh floor. The room is supposed to fulfill any illusion you desire. Knowing Rowena, it would be spectacular at least. The room was a kind of control center for the school, and holds the secret of the location of the master ward stone of Hogwarts. Not even the Headmaster knows about it. The ward stone is connected to our graves which lie somewhere beneath the Hogwarts floors. My son made sure of it after my death. Evolette and I had our own personal library down here in the Chamber. I will show you where it is if you can find me where Rowena's secret Room is." Salazar finished still keeping a straight face.

Harry's face was blank for a moment. "you were having me on, weren't you?"

"Not at all. Even my apprentices had to fulfill certain challenges in order to access deeper magicks under my command. Why should you be any different?" Salazar countered.

"Fair enough!", Harry mused.

"Anyways, we have deviated from the topic in concern. Dragon Breath, now that is something you can work on. If you can master your wyvern form, you can use it. The fire released by wyverns is as good as Dragon breath, not as well as the Great Dragons but enough to get your job done in this case. How is your animagus training going on?"

"I can morph the various limbs. I am working with the head transformation. Professor says that I will be able to morph completely before the end of the year. Can we do something about my wyvern form?"

"You need to make your body comfortable with releasing elemental fire first. Wyverns are creatures of fire. It would not do good for your body not to cooperate with you when you transform. One of the reasons why there are so few magical animagi is because of the difference in physiology of magical creatures. Dragons, wyverns, Phoenixes are creatures of elemental fire, fire which destroys on contact, anything and everything. The first time you release just a bout of your elemental fire, you end up in the Hospital wing for a day. That reminds me, I need to put you into a training schedule."

"What will you be teaching me?"

"Well ...a bit of this... a bit of that..."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

* * *

 **#### haha! finally the marauders enter the story.** **I took some ideas on Fiendfyre from "Harry Potter and the Secret Enemy". I don't believe a better description could exist anywhere else.** **###Happy reading! review!**


	12. ROTD 12 :Reminiscences and Pettigrew!

Harry was about to meet Daphne for the first time after their first date. He wondered if she was also affected by the Dementors' aura like him. Just when he was about to leave the hall for the ground floor to enter into the dungeons, he was suddenly pulled by the side. His reflex pumped in, and whoever was that pulled him got a sparkling wand pointed at him.

"Ickle Harrikins!" Fred began, "you wouldn't be hexing us!"

"Would you?" George finished.

"Bloody Weasleys!" Harry groaned. "Why this sudden treatment guys?"

"We need information which only you can provide us Harrikins,"

"and if you can do that, we may have something for you" The Weasleys alternated.

"All right. Shoot!" Harry intoned.

"How do you know Prongs?" George began.

"Prongs is my father. How did you know his name?" Harry asked, interested now.

"Prongs is... James Potter?" Fred asked reverently.

"Yes. It was a nickname he and his friends came up at school. Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lup..." Harry stopped in the middle, as it hit him.

 _Remus Lupin! Moony! His father's best friend was his defense teacher! And he didn't contact me at all! Hell, McGonagall shared stories of his parents sometimes! And Lupin, his uncle, dint..._

* * *

Harry ran all the way to the Defense classroom, ignoring the voices of Fred and George as they called him back. He had to know. Why did Lupin abandon him? Why did he let Dumbledore place him at the muggles? Why did he never tell him who he was? That he knew his parents? Harry had to know. He barged into the room and stopped suddenly.

Snape was talking to Lupin in the Defense classroom.

"Potter!" Snape barked, "didn't anyone teach you not to barge into any one's room without permission? You spoiled little brat! Just like your fath-"

"Severus!" Lupin interrupted, "I believe Mr. Potter has something important to tell. What is it Mr. Potter?"

"I wanted to talk to you", Harry sent Snape a glare, "Professor, in private".

"Of course! Severus if you please..."

Snape nodded curtly and left the room.

"Uncle Moony?"

Lupin blanched and shot Harry a look of surprise. "how did you..."

"How could you? You were my father's best friend. My father became an animagus for you. And you left his child to suffer at the muggles?"

"suffer? Harry I promise I had no idea. Dumbledore-"

" _Sod the flipping old man_! He thinks I'm _exaggerating_! Every single time! Did you ever look out to see if I was cared for? Did you?" Harry shouted.

"No Harry, I did not. Dumbledore made me promise not to. Besides, the wards would never allow something like me to enter."

"something like you?" Harry interrupted.

"I'm a werewolf Harry! I'm a dangerous creature. I thought you wouldn't like to be involved with me, or worse, not recognize me. In fact, I would not even be here if not for that traitor." Lupin began.

"Sirius is not a traitor. He is my _sworn_ Godfather, and he was never given a trial."

Lupin's face turned white as a sheet. "Are you sure?"

"Does a man make his enemy's son his sole heir? Sirius put it in his will that after his death, I should be sworn as the _next Lord of Black_. He was _sworn_ by the sanctity of magic to protect me by a blood ritual. **Blood,** Professor."

"But then... what happened to Pettigrew?"

"I do not know about that Professor. And that is the sole reason I want to catch Sirius and interrogate him. If he is found innocent, I will try for his trial."

"Harry!" Harry looked back to see the Weasley twins panting at the door.

"What's wrong guys?"

"Oh hello _professor_ , or should I say Moony! "began George, "Harry we wanted to tell you something strange, but you ran away."

"what?" Harry intoned in irritation.

"The Map, our map... I mean, the Marauder's map, we saw someone at Hogwarts that just shouldn't be possible!"

"Well, we were watching the map some days ago"

"Like when we observe when Harrikins here has his random tete-e-tete with Miss Greengrass"

"in the third floor classroom"

Harry blushed.

"We thought it was a student at first!"

"Who?"

"Peter Pettigrew" they chorused.

"Impossible!" Lupin shouted. "show me the map!"

Fred brought out a rather large piece of yellow parchment, and handed it over to Lupin.

He placed his wand on the parchment and intoned, " _I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."_

Immediately the blank parchment was filled with scribbles, and soon enough, a map appeared.

"is that?" Harry began.

"Is a map of Hogwarts." Fred completed.

"And is that?" tried Harry.

"Dumbledore"

"Yeah he is walking"

" walks a lot"

"this map shows us"

" what people do"

" every minute"

" everyday", The twins alternated.

"Brilliant!" Harry remarked, excited.

"And that is," Fred began pointing within the place marked as Hagrid's Hut,

"Peter Pettigrew", All four of them said together.

Remus stood still for a moment. Then, waving his wand, he muttered "Expecto Patronum". Ina flash, an ethereal silvery wolf flashed in front of them.

"Go to Dumbledore. Tell him Pettigrew is alive. Sirius is innocent. Come to Hagrid's. Immediately."

The animal bowed and disappeared.

"Whoa!" the twins reverberated together.

"Come on Harry, we have a rat to catch!"

"Rat?" Fred interrupted, "Surely you do not mean Scabbers right?"

"That brings out, we never saw Scabbers on the map."

"Scabbers is Pettigrew?' The twins ended together again.

"This twin speech is damn creepy!" Harry muttered.

"But Professor? He been with us since..."

"12 years?" Harry interrupted.

"12 years." Fred agreed.

"Professor, are you serious?"

"No, I'm..." Remus stopped midway, forcing the laugh to vanish off his face, "Let's hurry!"

* * *

Sirius Black liked being a Dog. If it was any irony, girls in school he had dated always ended their last words with him saying that he was a dog. But well, he wasn't any ordinary Dog. His animagus form was a grim. A magical animal. Believed by many to be a portent of death. Maybe that was why his best friend had died a premature death. He had been suffering in Azkaban for thirteen years. He knew he was innocent. He knew he had to survive. He knew James...

 _James Potter. His best friend. Lily, James' wife. And Harry. His Godson. James and Lily were dead. Harry was lost. Peter had betrayed them all._

 _James and Lily were dead. Harry was lost. Peter had betrayed them all._

 _James and Lily were dead. Harry was lost. Peter had betrayed them all._

 _James and Lily were dead. Harry was lost. Peter had—_

When Minister Fudge had come to the prison for his annual round, he had a newspaper in hand. He had thrown it away before leaving and Sirius had caught it. There was that... _betrayer_... on the first page. _That rat, that traitor, that..._

The grim shook his head. His thoughts had gone awry. He could not focus them. Every now and then, he would get lost in a myriad of memories and thoughts and sometimes, it would take hours for him to return to proper consciousness. At least living as an animal was easy. Animals had few thoughts. So he could focus on one primal need. _Get to Pettigrew..._

He shook his head and tried to sleep.

* * *

The Great War had went on for almost a decade when Grindelwald began his bid for power. Countries and ministries from all over Europe, Asia, and Africa didn't just sit by and let things happen. They actively tried to stop him. They _couldn't._ It is not exaggeration to say that Grindelwald killed tens of thousands of wizards on his own. Without adding the tally of his Reapers to the count. The addition of the magicals from America didn't change that. Just added to the body count. He quite literally _couldn't_ be stopped.

Then Albus Dumbledore entered the war.

Dumbledore was recognized in England as skilled, but had only gained acclaim as a brilliant potioneer, and a very good transfiguration teacher. People started pushing for him to get involved to help out… but...no one had the slightest clue as to how powerful he really was. Nobody however, really knew quite _why_ Dumbledore entered the war. There is speculation that an attack on a muggle home he was visiting was the cause. But again, no certainty.

Then Dumbledore and his Order changed the course of the entire war.

Dumbledore and his Order made big waves, and made them in a very short time. Reaper attacks were thwarted, offensives that Dumbledore participated in, resulted in victories. He was using magic people had never seen before, and using so much of it. Then the infamous duel between he and Grindelwald occurred. The official story is that the two of them fought for over three hours _._ Though several people swore it was easily twice that. But they were _wrong_! Dumbledore reminisced...

 _The battle waged over two days! First a war of words, then a war of blows, then a power struggle and lastly a Parthian shot! The change of allegiance of one particular wand changed the course of war!_

Dumbledore had emerged victorious, into a magical world that had been devastated. Suddenly there was a wizard whose power and skill meant that if he wanted, could step right into Grindelwald's shoes. And this time there might not be anyone to actually stop him. Instead… _he went right back to teaching without comment._

He wasn't back to teaching for a month before he was quickly pushed into the role of Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump at the ICW and, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot here in Britain. They were afraid of what happened should he look around and be upset with the wizarding world he saw. The campaign against dark magic, was because Dumbledore disapproved. People were _afraid_ of going against his wishes. Dumbledore knew how to wield the power granted to him. Most of the time with a genial touch, so a lot of people saw it as respect, which converted to awe. They did things he suggested because he's was a ' _great man'_ and _'powerful wizard'_.

 _Then... Voldemort entered the power struggle._

Initially He was a political activist, using his name as cover for anonymous. Nobody had heard of a _Voldemort_ before. Only among his followers was he respected, heralded, worshipped.

 _Then, his ability to use Parseltongue and his claims to the Lordship of Slytherin rose..._

But for some reason, Voldemort never actively claimed the seat at the Wizengamot. He had a lot of supporters, but instead of getting a powerful position at the Wizengamot, he resorted to _Hit-And-run_ tactics! " _Kill the Mudbloods!_ " His slogan ran...

When Purebloods somehow resisted, he coined another term... _Blood Traitor_ , and led _Purebloods against Purebloods_. People followed him like sheep since he promised them power.

But the sheep had forgotten...

 _Ambitious and ruthless men never share power..._

Dumbledore and his _Order of the Phoenix_ had started a passive resistance against Voldemort. He had seen enough bloodshed to give into another fight of aggression. It was _him_ that gave Grindelwald the knowledge for the _Greater Good!_ _How he hated that word now!_ There was no evil that could not be justified under the banner of the _Greater Good._ But no matter what he tried, Voldemort's war tactics somehow always had an upper hand in the war. Even magically he and Voldemort were almost at the same level, with Voldemort having a slight edge. He even decided to use Voldemort's original ancestry against him. His use of the name " _Tom Riddle_ " during his many... _conversations_ during battles with Voldemort proved that. But it went useless. The fanatic followers believed he was lying, confident in their Lord's ancestry from the great Slytherin by seeing his ability of Parseltongue. And the others? Well, nobody really wanted to proclaim and die by the Dark Lord's hand.

Then one night, he was delivered a Prophecy _! A Prophecy that marked a name for the end of Voldemort!_

 _Two babies! Neville LongBottom! Harry Potter! And one of them prophesized to vanquish the monster..._

Perhaps it was his victor's grief over the thousands lost in the Great war, or perhaps it was his completely passive outlook during Voldemort's terrorism. Whatever it was, made him concentrate on the Prophecy than take an active role in the battle again...

It was a clean chit! And he would not have any more blood at his hands _! Ariana would have been proud of him!_

Then, the night of Halloween, 1981.

 _A friend's betrayal, a couple's death, a killing curse, a child orphaned, a miracle created, the monster vanquished._

 _Harry Potter had changed the course of the war..._

The tiny fifteen month-old orphan, with no family, and yet, heralded as the dawn of the new age...

But. There was a problem.

The mob was _fickle_. Albus Dumbledore was a warrior and a teacher, and so the mob respected him., _Harry Potter was just... a child_. He would be used, proclaimed, used, manipulated, and then. rejected away if the mob had it their way. Voldemort had hardly been vanquished and already corruption was at its high. Death eaters were escaping prison by donating money to the ministry.

 _Harry Potter. was not safe._

The boy had that scar. A lightning bolt. A _sowilo_ rune to be exact. _The rune of victory. Victory over the undefeatable, unstoppable Killing curse. Victory over Death._

He wanted the boy safe. Away from the hypocrisies of the wizarding world, away from the fame. Away from his heritage. He believed that _when it was time_ for him to return, He would _reintroduce_ young Harry Potter to his heritage. But for the moment, the boy had the right to live a normal life.

His eyes, the shining bright orbs of emerald green, just like his mother.

Lily Potter.

Shining example of Muggleborns. The Lady Potter. Spell Creator. Charms and Arithmancy Master. Tiger Animagus. His personal favorite student.

Lily Potter lived and grew among muggles, with her sister...and yet she grew to be such a wonderful human being.

If the mother could have that life, her son deserved no less.

 _But what about Protection?_

He had met with Petunia before, and if he were honest with himself, she didn't come across as very kind. However, Harry Potter would be safe with her. He created Blood wards out of Lily's blood, and tied them to Privet Drive. With Petunia living there, the wards would be stabilized by her blood. With Harry being a wizard, his magic would fuel the wards.

 _Petunia wouldn't even have to see Harry doing accidental magic_...

Harry would grow up as a muggle.

Everyone would be satisfied.

* * *

Eleven years later, Harry Potter had returned back to the magical world. He had arranged Hagrid for meeting Harry rather than sending Minerva or worse, Severus. _Poor boy could never outgrow his hatred for James!_ Hagrid was a gentle soul. And also, Hagrid would ensure that Dumbledore could subtly test Harry Potter's characters and the " _power the dark lord knows not_ ".

It was two years already. Harry was nothing as spectacular as expected. But at times of great distress, he would miraculously come up at top! Did his unknown power rise up _only_ in life-or-death situations? Harry had _burnt_ another man to a crisp, and Dumbledore _could never fathom why_! Lily's protection, no matter how strong, was _not_ supposed to act like that. And then young Harry killed a basilisk at the age of twelve. Dumbledore himself would think seven times before even attempting such a feat.

 _And the boy did that with just a sword._

This year however, Harry had changed. He was suddenly the epitome of class. His magic was more potent and he was breezing through classes. He was making more friends and was more outgoing than before. _He often wondered why Harry hated his relatives._ They were his blood, after all. How can family hate family? Back to Harry, he wondered why and how Harry changed.

Then, the missive from Gringotts reached him.

Harry had inquired about his heritage by a proper formal letter. How had Harry known? Perhaps Miss Granger? He would look into it. The missive claimed that he was now Head of House Potter and hence Dumbledore was now freed of his duties as Harry's legal guardian. He was surprised, but then decided to lay back and watch. After all, it was Harry's heritage, and _if the ancient magicks accepted his claim_ , who was Dumbledore to say otherwise?

Harry had changed after that. His choice of friends had changed. And to be honest, Dumbledore was happy about that. Why couldn't young Harry have been friends with people like Neville LongBottom and Susan Bones before? The youngest Weasley, for all his talents, was almost uncivilized. His eating habits proved that. And while he never differentiated or chose among students, he knew that Miss Granger was a little high-strung, even to his tastes. The young girl practically never understood the concept of privacy. She seemed to have her opinion on anything and everything and God forbid if anyone tried to tell her otherwise. She trashed the traditions of the wizarding world left and right and was almost always behaving as a ... What did Severus say? Ah, yes, a _know-it-all._ Dumbledore somehow knew believed that she was the type of muggleborn that the fanatical Pureblood community used to defend their actions.

Harry was making changes this year. And he would let him create his own stage. After all, he was subtly preparing him to take his own place after Dumbledore retired or died. He—

There was a sudden flash of light and a silver wolf hovered above his desk...

" _Pettigrew is alive. Sirius is innocent. Come to Hagrid's. Immediately_ " boomed the voice of Remus Lupin.

Dumbledore quickly gathered himself up and strode down to the grounds.

* * *

 **### a Dumbledore's and Sirius' POV. Tell me how did you like it. I took a few facts from the fanfiction "I'm still here". The history lesson there was fantastic! Hope you like it!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Arcturus Peverell.**


	13. ROTD 13 : Battles lost and won

**### a Severus Snape POV! enjoy!**

Severus Snape believed in a pureblood society. The purebloods were the only ones who had a modicum of class, civility, aristocracy, power and respect. Even though he was a half-blood, his mother was a witch from the illustrious line of Prince. His father, how he hated him, was a muggle. A man, a _creature_ he hated, a creature who destroyed his and his mother's life by living, a creature that came home every night and beat his mother up, a creature his mother still loved without any condition, a creature he had resolved to punish once he grew strong enough.

It was one of the reasons why he chose the service of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord promised him power, and respect in higher society. The Dark Lord was impressed by his skills at Potions. He was after all, the youngest Potions Master of the century. The Dark Lord promised him, that after all was said and done and Britain was under his dominion, he would see to it that Severus would claim his rightful inheritance of the _Ancient and Noble House of Prince_.

And then it was that night, when he turned eighteen...

His father, the monster came home, drunk. _He_ used offensive words on his mother. _He_ started to beat his mother. Severus was incensed. He could not bear the atrocity that a muggle was harassing the witch of a noble heritage. He tried to stop the creature. The creature backhanded him, and threw him down on the floor. Severus spun back. And he acted.

 _"_ _aruspices ardent_ _"_

 _The entrails burning curse. A dark curse. A curse he had learned at the hands of the Dark Lord._

 _"No!"_

 _Somebody dived before the monster. A woman with black hair. His mother..._

* * *

Just as Harry Potter closed the door to that _werewolf's_ chamber, Severus stopped walking, and disillusioned himself. He watched as the Weasley twins arrive at the door. He watched them enter as he entered with them. Nobody had any idea he was in the room.

He watched as the twins, Potter and the werewolf deciphered the truth of Sirius Black. He watched as the werewolf sent a Patronus message off to Dumbledore. He watched as the group left for Hagrid. He watched them go. Nobody still had any idea he was there in the room.

Fools! He thought, it was almost funny how the fickle minded people in the wizarding world had decided that the puritanical Sirius Black of all people was the betrayer. He knew, after all, he was there. He wondered, how things had changed since the day he had lost the friendship of Lily Evans.

 _"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"_

 _Lily blinked. "Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."_

 _"Apologize to Evans!" James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him._

 _"I don't want you to make him apologize," Lily shouted, rounding on James. "You're as bad as he is. . .."_

 _"What?" yelped James. "I'd NEVER call you a — you-know-what!"_

 _"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can — I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."_

 _She turned on her heel and hurried away._

 _"Evans!" James shouted after her, "Hey, EVANS!"_

 _But she didn't look back._

 _"What is it with her?" said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him._

 _"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," said Sirius._

 _"Right," said James, who looked furious now, "right —"_

 _There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside down in the air._

 _"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"_

* * *

Somehow he had managed to hold on to his _pants_. And then _Black_ , stunned him and left him hanging by the altar near the Slytherin Dorms. It was almost late night when he came into consciousness and felt a wand sticking over his robes.

He suddenly pulled his wand out when there was a shriek and a voice answered.

"Stop, STOP! I was only enervating you." It was Pettigrew.

"What are you doing here, you filthy arse?" Severus grunted, still in pain.

"I wanted to... uhm. talk to you. I kind of... feel bad about how they treated you. You and me aren't too different you know."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, his eyes narrowing.

"you and me. We aren't different. Followers, both of us. I follow James Potter for who he is. A Pureblood of the highest order. De-facto leader of the Gryffindor students group. He has power, money, connections, respect..."

 _Power, Money, Connections, Respect_... Somehow Severus knew what Pettigrew was talking about.

"You on the other hand, follow the Dark Lord and the Slytherin group, for the same reasons. I have seen you doing that Severus." Peter's voice was slowly becoming more confident and sly. Severus wondered how the boy wasn't in Slytherin.

"I have seen how you _desire_ after Evans. And I have seen how she treats you. And I have seen how you hate James Potter for trying after her."

"What are you implying? What do you want?" Severus asked, curious this time.

"I'm tired of following them. I'm tired of their puritanical beliefs. I hate the way That Black is using his charm and money to support Gryffindor and Dumbledore. I hate that I have to follow them for else, I will be hunted, I know that well. James Potter doesn't do well with... _betrayal_. I will help you poison Lily's mind against Potter. In return, you shall fix my way through the Dark Lord's minions. I want security, Severus. Security, more than anything. I don't want to die like the brawn Gryffindors I hang out with."

"I will see what I can do."

* * *

Peter had kept his word. The pranks of the Marauders were failing. Severus expertly avoided the pranks and in some cases, turned the table onto the Marauders themselves. Peter would arrange things in a way that Lily would just arrive to _see James Potter Bullying_ the students. Her ire would rise more, and without listening to James' reasons, she would just rush off.

* * *

Then, the War of 1977 happened.

Voldemort attacked Hogwarts. Or Rather, Bellatrix Lestrange led the Dark Army on Voldemort's orders against Dumbledore's Hogwarts. It was the first time the masses saw Dumbledore in the offensive. Dumbledore had himself disrupted the attack formations of almost one-third of the Army by himself. Severus saw Lily Evans, the tigress that she was, single handedly fight Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord's most trusted Lieutenant, to a standstill. Severus had seen James Potter leading an army of students, Gryffindors probably, leading the flank next to Dumbledore. Severus had seen some of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws help in getting the juniors to safety. Clandestine that he was, Severus had safely hidden in the castle.

 _Why die yourself when so many can do that for you?_

 _After all, wars are not about who is right, but rather, who's left._

Severus survived. Peter survived. Lily Survived. Black and Potter survived.

A lot many didn't.

The battle was lost.

The next Hogsmeade week, Severus had seen Lily kissing James Potter at the Three Broomsticks.

Severus had lost the battle.

James Potter had won.

He had lost.

But he would win the war. Severus promised to himself.

* * *

It was a windy night. Just a month before Halloween. There was an informant that claimed that Dumbledore was meeting someone important. Severus volunteered to fish in for information.

The Hogs' Head was a second-rate bar. Prices weren't that steep in there. Severus peeped through the window and observed as Dumbledore sat talking to some strange looking woman. At first chance, Severus wondered if she was on ... what was the muggle word? Dugs?

After along and boring meeting, Dumbledore was about to rise up. Severus prepared to stop eavesdropping and leave before anybody noticed him. That was when...

The woman's voice suddenly changed. It was like one of those muggle movie-things he had watched as a child. It seemed like she was... possessed. And then, the words came out of her mouth...

 ** _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..._**

 ** _Born to those who have thrice defied him._**

 ** _Born as the seventh month dies..._**

Severus was stood aghast in shock at the words of the Prophecy. _The vanquisher of the Dark Lord?_ And then, what would happen to Severus? He would never be able to claim the Prince fortune. He would never be able to _claim Lily_ after the Dark Lord killed that blasted Potter. He would-

It was at this moment that that _blasted Barman_ of the shop decided to open that blasted window. Severus was caught, but he somehow escaped, though not before Dumbledore recognized him. Severus was bodily thrown out of the pub. _The atrocity!_

With shaky hands, Severus had returned to the Dark Lord...

He had repeated the words of that blasted Prophecy in the Dark Lord's ears.

Two days later, the Dark Lord called for him and shared with him an interesting fact.

Two babies! Neville LongBottom! Harry Potter! Born on July . _As the seventh month dies._

 _Potter's spawn had to die._

"My lord, I have a request."

"Say Severus, what is it?" The dark Lord had replied.

"The boy and his father, I don't mind if you kill them by your own hands..."

"But the woman... Lily, I have always... desired her."

The Dark Lord stared at him for a moment. "You will get your reward, Severus. I shall spare the girl."

"My Lord is very benevolent."

The Dark Lord smirked.

"However Severus, I want you to do something for me in return."

"Anything my lord! Anything!"

"I want you to go to Dumbledore and ask for forgiveness. I'm sure he knows who the prophesized babies are. He must have had them under protection. Tell him that you have seen the light. Join his school as Potions Master. Offer him your allegiance as a spy. Let him know that you are his."

The Dark Lord paused.

'But you and I know, that you are mine!"

"Of course, my Lord!"

* * *

"My lord! The old man has taken to my services. He believed that I was hurting and that my repentance was real."

"What about the babies?"

"My lord, the Potters and LongBottoms have went under the _fidelius_. It will be difficult to find them."

"yes, the _fidelius_ does make things difficult. No one can enter into their house until invited by someone-"

Peter Pettigrew entered from behind the Dark Lord.

"inside!" The Dark Lord finished.

"Hello Severus!'

"Pettigrew!"

"We are friends Severus. Call me...Wormtail."

* * *

 _Halloween. 1981._

The door opened. A small flash. A bang was heard. A shout, a wild laugh and a shriek echoed out together.

A green light. "James!" Lily's voice echoed out.

A small smirk filled Severus' lips, as he hid in the shadows.

 _I win._

 _Potter..._

 _Another shriek._

Severus entered through the broken door. He could hear Lily's shout...

"Harry!"

An explosion. Severus was bodily lifted and thrown out into the garden by the force of the explosion.

Severus woke. His temple was bleeding. He looked up at the embittered house in front of him. Then, the truth of the situation came to him...

Lily...

He rushed in, jumped through the cracks, and entered into the room.

A cloak lay fallen. _The Dark Lord? Dead?_

 _A corpse lay on the floor. Red hair spread out around it. A broken wand lay beside._

 _Lily..._

 _The boy cried... he was alive..._

 _Potter's spawn... he was alive._

 _The Dark Lord was dead..._

 _Lily was Dead..._

 _Severus had lost..._

* * *

The boy was alive... The trophy, the herald of his defeat at the hands of James Potter was alive. Looking at him with those green eyes... _Lily's eyes. Lily._

He wanted to end the boy's life.

But he had lily's eyes... _Lily, the woman he loved. he desired most of all..._

He stood up and bared his wand at the child on the crib.

 _"Avad-"_

There was a screeching noise! Severus looked down through the window. It was Black, on his wretched motorcycle. Severus disapparated.

* * *

"Ah Severus, come in! I have some grave news to share!" Dumbledore began sadly.

"Lily... she is dead, I know." Severus replied, grief obvious in his voice.

"Yes, but the boy lives! Lily's child lives"

 _As if I dint know that..._

"what does it matter? The Dark Lord is dead!"

"Yes he might be! But we can't be sure. Anyway death eaters must be hunting for the boy. He must be kept safe."

"Help me save Lily's child!" Dumbledore ended.

 _Time for the shot!_ Severus thought. _This will make or break..._

 _""I wish . . . I wish I were dead. . .."_

 _"And what use would that be to anyone?" said Dumbledore coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."_

 _Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore's words appeared to take a long time to reach him._

 _"What — what do you mean?"_

 _"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."_

 _"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone —"_

 _"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."_

 _There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, "Very well. Very well. But never — never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between_

 _us! Swear it! I cannot bear . . . especially Potter's son . . . I want your word!"_

 _"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?"_

 _Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished_

 _face. "If you insist . . ."_

* * *

 **Back to the present..**

It was time for Severus to repay the help. Sirius Black had been captured and _surprisingly_ , placed in Azkaban _without a trial_ for the _murder of his best friend_. Severus had partied all night at the news with fire whiskey. Potter may be dead, but his partner-in-arms Black was alive. And it would be _Black who would suffer the wrath of Severus' vengeance_.

He silently followed Lupin and company to Hagrid's shack. He watched them confront Peter. He watched them on the verge of capturing Peter.

Time for the shot...

 _'_ _evigilabit ad monstrum_ _"_

 _Another dark curse he had learned at the service of the Dark Lord. A curse that brings out the werewolf from the person. The monster awakens, and the person is helpless to stop himself from transforming into a werewolf..._

The interference was caused; His work was done.

 _Severus smiled._

* * *

 ** _#### I am evil! I know!_** **_review!_**


	14. ROTD 14: Harry and Padfoot vs Moony

**### And now... back to the main story line.**

 **## so lights, camera, annnnd action!**

* * *

Harry and Remus Lupin ran down the Hogwarts grounds right to Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Banging hard, Harry called out, "Hagrid? Hagrid? Hagrid open the door!"

Hagrid had barely opened with a "Wat-ta doin-" when Remus pushed him aside and chanted,

" _Accio_ Scabbers the Rat."

There was a tiny squeal in the room and the great dusty rat fell in front of them.

 _"Ad hominem"_

A blue spell shot out and Lo! the rat was suddenly no longer there. Instead there was a fat, mousy hair, buck-toothed man kneeling in front of them. He almost seemed more of an overgrown baby to Harry than a normal man of Lupin's age.

"Hello Peter." Remus called out, anger hidden in his voice.

"Remus, my friendddd..." Peter tried to push him out and break away.

" _Incarcerous_ "

Ropes sprang out of Harry's wand and tied Peter down.

"Harry! You look so much like your father! He was my best friend! You have to save me! Sirius, that traitor, he wants to kill me. He will kill-"

"Shut up, You traitor. How dare you talk to Harry like that? How dare you talk about James in front of him?"

"We won't kill you Peter." Harry remarked coldly. Peter looked comforted by that. "But we will take you to Dumbledore. And then we will hand you over to the Dementors."

Peter's face blanched white at the mention of the Dementors.

"Now Peter, get ready to -"

There was a sudden sound as a purple spell came out of nowhere and hit Remus. He doubled over, convulsing in pain.

"HARRY!" his eyes now dark yellow, "Capture him and all of you get out of here."

"Professor!"

"NOW!" he roared, and started convulsing again.

Peter watched in glee. This was his chance. He quickly started morphing back again.

Harry looked at him in surprise. Seeing Peter morphing, he did the only thing he felt he could. He shot him a spell.

" _Lacero_ ".

The severing charm. Salazar had taught him that one the other day.

It hit Pettigrew on his hand, and sliced through his flesh. Peter cried out in pain, but what came out was a strange mix of a cry and a squeak. Peter vanished among the grasses.

"HARRY!"

"GET OUT OF HERE NOW!"

Lupin couldn't hold it much longer. He shoved Harry away. Hagrid caught Harry and shoved him into his hut along with the Weasleys. Then, he took his shovel and decided to put up a fight with the now-fully-transformed werewolf. However, he didn't estimate its strength. The werewolf pounced on him and slashed his face, as Hagrid fell unconscious.

A great howl wailed through the castle and it was full of anger now, and Harry felt the desire to hunt over fill his own brain. A sickening thought lingered in his mind, Moony was free. Harry had barely gotten around to trying to watch through the window before he heard the sound of approaching feet, turning he saw the glowing amber eyes of a transformed werewolf pounding against the door of the hut.

Harry dived in front of the door and cast the strongest locking charm he knew.

" _Colloportus trimendium_ "

The triple locking charm. Normally it took Aurors at least thirty minutes to break that charm. The wooden door glowed before turning into a metal but he knew his protections were temporary; his transfiguration was not perfect and would not stand up to the strength of a werewolf. He cursed to himself when he realized that he had locked himself and the twins in a closed room with no other exit, the windows had sealed themselves in a lockdown so he couldn't escape.

Moony gave a frustrated howl and with a great blow his pounded into the door, which buckled slightly and the bolts gave way allowing Harry a brief glimpse at Moony. He looked rabid, saliva was dripping from his mouth, scarier than he had ever imagined.

Moony barged at the door but the protections held. The door shook violently but was still intact. Harry retreated to the furthest corner of the room in panic, trying to think of a way out of this predicament but no thought came to him. Fred and George were busy putting up more protection charms to hold the room walls up properly.

Harry had a wand, his artifacts were in his bag in the common room, he couldn't make the Patronus yet, and portkey travel was impossible within Hogwarts now.

Growling in frustration he kicked a chair out of the way but his growl had been menacing and with it came a long pause from the bombardment on the door, Moony had stooped and listened.

Harry knew that there was only one thing that could save him now, and it was not his elemental powers. Those may have served him with the Dementors, but they were useless against a creature fast, powerful and strong like the werewolf beyond the door. He heard the bangs and scratches against the wooden walls as debris started falling downwards. He closed his eyes and remembered the details of his practice with his transfiguration professor. While he knew he wasn't ready, it was his only salvation at the moment.

Drawing on the knowledge he had of this magic he used every ounce of mental prowess and skill in transfiguration he had, willing his body to change, remembering how the creatures body had looked, each paw, leg and joint, the shape of its head and face, to the position of its shoulders and back. He remembered his trainings with McGonagall.

Magic was rippling across his skin, and was effecting him sporadically, the severe pain in his bones as they changed from arms and legs to limbs, every muscle in his body was screaming at him, his nerves on fire, but he refused to stop.

Moony was now ravaging the door, he was sapping the strength of the spell on the door. The door which had been aided by the triple-locking charm was slowing fading back to normal wood and had become splintered, and glowed red with the force being exerted onto them and the magic that kept them holding in place.

Harry noticed none of that, he was busy morphing slowly and painfully, and unlike the ease with which his transfiguration teacher morphed, this transformation was painful and he was breathing heavily. His face elongated, fangs erupted out of his jaws, his body became overwhelmed with heavy and thick layer of fur all over, while a long bony tail erupted out of his hind-end.

With a mighty crash Moony was able to break through the door entirely, all of the magic was destroyed and the door was hurled across the room. Harry registered the noise and opened his eyes and his green eyes locked with the glowing amber of the crazed werewolf.

But with the panic of seeing the dangerous creature in front of him, came a final ripple of magic across him and he felt a primal mind entwine with his own. He finished his transformation just as Moony was about to lunge at him and caused the wolf to pause. Harry stood on all four of his legs, he instinctually raised his mouth, his jaws shining with its own razor sharp teeth.

He felt odd. There was fear inside him, fear at facing the mighty werewolf face to face. There was also a moment of confusion. His body felt different. And then he realized, he had two minds fighting over his wolf body- his own and the primal dire wolf mind.

But the dire wolf body was not like his own body, he was not used to its movements and he was faltering to hold himself steady, and Moony lunged at him, biting him on one of his front limbs, making Harry roar in pain before the wolf was suddenly tacked from him. He saw Moony lunge at him again but then—

A black furry thing had lunged on the werewolf, and was now attacking him. Harry felt confused. He tried to get up and hold himself steady on his limbs but was failing terribly. The black furry thing, a huge dog was now facing Moony, growling in anger and barking towards the crazed werewolf.

 _Sirius! Sirius Black!_

Noticing he was outnumbered, Moony let off a great howl and he jumped off from the frontage of Hagrid's hut at great speed.

Harry had no intention of following him, but the primal dire wolf mind was rising to the challenge, it would not be defeated and its mind rose to the forefront of Harry's mind and with a slight acknowledgement of the mind from Harry allowing its presence to grow, it took over and Harry took the backseat.

Salazar had told him that an Animagus gained the mind of its form and if one allowed it could give the wizard the raw power of the creature he turned into. Harry might not know how to run as a wolf yet but the Dire wolf did. He could smell Moony and the Dire wolf charged out of the hut at a speed that was rivalled only by Moony himself.

The Dire wolf overtook Moony easily and he gave a yelp of surprise when saw the streak of black fur and silver claws dash passed him in a blur but could do nothing to stop him.

The werewolf knew he was being hunted and attempted to evade him but the Dire wolf wouldn't be denied of its prey. He tackled the creature and used its silver claws to dig into the werewolf's flesh driving it into a tumbling mess of black and silver where they battled for submission.

The fight lasted some time. The werewolf refusing to submit itself to the larger animal and it was getting angrier and more rabid by the moment but the Dire wolf would not be denied it gained the advantage for a brief moment and that was all it needed as it gripped the back of werewolf's neck in its teeth and shook it into submission using the full strength of its body to prevent it from moving.

Moony did not go down easily, he fought and fought until his strength was spent and was left a heaving heap on the floor, covered from head to two in blood and had clumps of hair missing. With the fight over the animal mind released its hold and receded back and Harry's logical human mind took the forefront again.

He limped away from Moony having suffered a number of bites and injuries himself, but he saw that the dog was sat down with his teeth bared but his chest was also injured. It watched him carefully before getting up and pushing him with his head towards the werewolf and then laid his bulk on the wolf before giving him a small bark and gesturing with his head. Realizing that It wanted him to do the same he complied and took position over Moony's back legs. Sirius gave a howl that sounded pained and fresh blood escaped from the wound on his neck.

A foreign smell suddenly filled Harry's nose making him wrinkle his muzzle in confusion and he heard the soft steps of a human came from around the corner towards them.

The human gave him a strange look, and then held his wand in his hand. Moony began to growl again and attempt to get up forcing Harry and Sirius to push him harder into the floor. A large silver chain appeared in front of the human's wand and they bound Moony's legs and neck before the chain linked them together tightly preventing the werewolf from moving or opening its mouth.

The dog clambered up shakily and he too transformed back into himself.

"Professor!" Sirius exclaimed.

Suddenly he realized who he was talking to. "Dumbledore, I'm innocent!" He cried out, hands raised above his head.

"I know". Dumbledore smiled, amused at Sirius' expression. He then turned his blue eyes onto Harry. "Can you transform back?"

"Who is that? "Sirius asked shocked. "I can smell something familiar in him."

Harry didn't listen to Sirius's response, he closed his eyes and attempted to think of the transformation back but he could taste the blood on his tongue and the feeling of loss of strength, but his heart was hammering in his chest and he wasn't able to change a small part of his body. He opened his eyes and shook his head, but a whine escaped his mouth as became worried he would be stuck as a wolf.

"Well this will hurt worse than you can imagine but we do not have the time to be delicate." Dumbledore replied quickly as a blue spell shot out and hit Harry in his belly and he felt his body rive in agony and the bones changed shape and muscles transformed back to normal.

* * *

 **### Tell me. Is it what you expected?**

 **### I was tired of Dumbledore taking the back seat and so gave him some screen space. Also, the werewolf fight part was heavily inspired from The Peverell Legacy by Jayan Phoenix.**

 **review! review!**


	15. ROTD 15 : A long-awaited trial

Sirius Black, mass-murderer, right-hand of the Dark Lord, Killer of Pettigrew and thirteen muggles by a single blasting curse, and betrayer of the Potters, sat primly on one of the plush chairs in Dumbledore's office. Neither the Headmaster nor his familiar phoenix seemed to any sort of perturbed by this. Rather...

"Lemon Drops, Sirius?"

"I will take one, Headmaster." Sirius replied back in a croaky voice.

"Now that the pleasantries are over, shall we get to the point?"

"I told you I'm innocent", Sirius his voice now almost sounding like a growl.

"I never doubted differently, after seeing the happenings this evening, but what I want to know is what actually happened that night, when-"

"I was sitting at the LongBottoms. Frank had invited me for dinner and after all that was happening around, I took him by the offer. We talked for a while, and then..."

 _"So how are James and Lily doing?"_

 _"As good as they can be, given the circumstances. However, I do wish I could take my godson for a ride on my Bike. He seemed to love it. Why Lily never let me enter anywhere near Godric's Hollow, let alone take baby Harry for a ride."_

 _"Godric Hollow?"_

 _"Yes, that where they are-"_

 ** _How am I able to speak out the name?_**

 _Recognition screamed into his sense, as the truth barged into him..._

 ** _Lily... James... NO!_**

 _"I have to leave Frank! Sorry! Very Sorry!"_

 _"is something wrong Siri-"_

 _But Sirius had already left..._

 _He could never wash that scene out of his memories. Even up in the air, the flaming house at Godric's Hollow were completely visible. Fear gripped his mind..._ _ **James...Lily...Harry...**_

 _He drove down at full speed, and had hardly parked the bike, that he ran into the now destroyed house._

 _The door destroyed... The furniture throws all over. A fight had happened._

 ** _What is that?_**

 _A corpse lay on the floor. Black hair spread out around it. A broken set of round glasses lay beside..._

 ** _Don't' think about Harry._**

 ** _Don't think about Harry._**

 _He barged up the stairs, now tweaking and cracking with his every step._

 _He heard a crack._

 _Someone was upstairs._

 _Someone who had. just apparated..._

 _But How did Voldemort find out about the location?_

 _Pettigrew..._

 _The rat. the rat had been the traitor... he betrayed his brothers..._

 _And Sirius had himself suggested James to choose Pettigrew over him..._

 ** _I have as good as killed them..._**

 _He rushed upstairs._

 _A black cloak lay fallen._ _ **Is that?**_

 _A corpse lay on the floor. Red hair spread out around it. A broken wand lay beside..._

 _Lily... he couldn't hold himself back anymore... He wailed out in despair..._

 _Harry cried out..._ _ **Harry was... alive?**_

 _He gently took the now crying Harry into his coarse hands._

 _"Shush! Shush Prongslet! Padfoot is here for you..."_

 _The baby seemed to recognize who held him..._

 _"pa 'foo!' he tried ..._

 _"Yes!" Sirius replied, now in tears._

 ** _I need to get Harry out of here..._**

 _He rushed down the stairs. only to find Hagrid. the half-giant was crying..._

 _"'ow didya happen Sirius?"_

 _"James and Lily are dead. Hold on to Harry for me...for a while."_

 _"Dumbledore ordered me to take Harry to him, Sirius."_

 ** _Dumbledore? What's he playing at?_**

 ** _Pettigrew..._**

 _"All right Hagrid! Take Harry and return back to Dumbledore! "Then, he thought for a while, "Take my bike. You will be able to reach faster. I have some... work left to do"_

 _I need to get to Pettigrew..._

 _He apparated._

 _Pettigrew's place. It was burning._

 _"Sirius?"_

 _"peter..." Sirius growled._

 _"How could you do that peter? You betrayed James."_

 _"The Dark Lord... he is very powerful... he would kill me... I didn't want to die..." Peter shouted, now distraught._

 _"Not anymore, for I will be the one to kill you, you bastard!"_

 _Sirius shot off a reductor curse, but Peter dodged the curse and jumped off, reaching the other end of the alley..._

 _He ran off into the muggle colony nearby._

 _Sirius followed him, now mad with anger..._

 ** _That blasted rat!_**

 _Peter ran into a muggle crowd, and then suddenly turned around... His distraught face vanishing on spot and being replaced by a sly smile..._

 _And then, he shouted back..._

 _"How could you Sirius? How could you betray the Potters like that?"_

 ** _What?_**

 _"Lily and James trusted you... How could you Sirius?"_

 ** _What's he babbling about?_**

 _"Peter-"_

 _He stopped midway to deflect a curse from Peter..._

 _"_ _Bombarda maxima_ _", Peter fired at a gas pipe nearby._

 _The pipe blasted... an explosion..._

 _Sirius was bodily thrown away and his head hit a pole. He almost fell unconscious..._

 _He somehow regained his footing._

 _The muggles... they were all dead... So many killed by the traitorous rat..._

 _Peter was always good with Blasting curses..._

 _'See ya Sirius!" Peter then slipped in a small knife and cut of his little finger._

 _He morphed into the rat and slipped into the drain!_

 ** _That sly rat! He one-upped me!_**

 ** _He betrayed James. He betrayed Lily... and I suggested him for the change..._**

 ** _He killed the muggles... and I was the one who taught him how to fight using the Bombarda..._**

 ** _Peter..._**

 _He began to laugh... Laugh at his misfortune, at his loss. At the betrayal..._

 _"Drop your wand Black!" Came out the voice of Alastor Moody._

 _"What are you talkin-"_

 _He fell off unconscious..._

Dumbledore and Sirius returned back after viewing Sirius' memory from the pensive.

"I believe you..."

"Thanks... professor."

* * *

About half an hour later a cat Patronus glided into the room passing through the door like it wasn't there and Minerva McGonagall's voice came from its mouth. "Fudge on his way up with an Auror."

"Looks like your interrogators have arrived, Sirius." said Dumbledore with a grim smile.

"Where should I hide?" asked Sirius.

Dumbledore waved his wand and a door appeared beside the entrance to his office. "Hide in there and do not under any circumstances touch anything," said Dumbledore sternly.

"You got it prof!" said Sirius and hurried into the room.

The door to the Headmaster's office knocked.

"Come in Cornelius."

The minister of magic entered the room with Auror Robards behind him.

"Ah, Dumbledore. How nice to see you, but I hope there is some good reason that I am brought here at such a short call." he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Cornelius, thank you for seeing me, and I do have some important reason to bring you out of... whatever important work you were surely engrossed in." said Dumbledore politely.

"You caught Sirius Black!" shouted Fudge.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," said Fudge hastily. "That's all that has been on my mind lately. What with Black running on the loose, and Harry Potter being here, and the questions on the Dementors, it is driving me crazy."

"Then it will make you happy to know that I have indeed captured Sirius Black on the Hogwarts grounds."

Cornelius almost jumped up in joy. A glee shining on his face, he almost yelled up, "Where is he? I need to authorize the Dementors to perform the kiss and be done with him!"

"Ah!" Dumbledore interrupted, "but I am afraid, there is a little complication. Sirius Black will not be administered the Dementor's kiss."

The smile on Fudge's face faded. "What are you talking about Dumbledore? What do you mean Black won't get the kiss!"

"Because you cannot administer the Kiss on a person who is not a convict!"

"What delusion is this Dumbledore?" Cornelius scowled.

"Why don't you ask your own officials about it? I have all the time, get your facts right about Black's trial." Dumbledore urged.

"Dumbledore, I know you and I respect you, as a prodigious wizard and a friend. But if this is some tomfoolery you are attempting-" Cornelius began.

"If my suspicions are wrong, I will step out of my position as Chief Warlock." Dumbledore finished.

Cornelius stared at his colleague for a moment.

"Robards! Fetch me Sirius Black's trial file."

The Auror nodded and turned to Dumbledore, pointing at the Floo. Dumbledore realizing what he intended, moved away and gestured. With a flash of green, the Auror was gone.

After five minutes of anxious waiting, the Auror returned with Madam Bones, the head of the Department of Law Enforcement.

"What are you doing here, Amelia?"

"Robards informed me that Sirius Black had been caught. As far as I remembered, the situation falls under my jurisdiction." Amelia replied.

Cornelius waved his hand with a flourish at Dumbledore and said, "Dumbledore here, believes that the mass-murderer Sirius Black, was never convicted. I tried telling him that his brains have been addled with age but-"

"Minister, sorry to interrupt but, there wasn't a file belonging to Sirius Black's conviction." Auror Robards replied meekly.

"WHAT?" Amelia and Fudge shouted in sync.

"Apparently," Robards continued, "He was captured by Moody and put into Azkaban by Crouch without a trial, quoting the new Death eater laws."

"Crouch gave his own son a proper trial, and he denied that right to an heir of an Ancient House?" Amelia scoffed.

"If I am allowed, I would like to shed some light on the situation." Dumbledore said.

At Amelia's nod, he called out, "Mr. Black?"

Sirius came out of the secret door, looking at Fudge with suspicion.

"Are you _suggesting_ that Black is innocent?" Fudge queried.

"I'm glad you catch on quick Minister."

Fudge stared at Dumbledore, his mouth open. Kingsley was still just looking merely interested and nothing more.

"Now see here Dumbledore. We can't just grant Black a trial. If you don't hand him over now I'm going to have you arrested on the charge of withholding vital information and protecting a fugitive," said Fudge angrily.

"I am well aware of the charges you can stack up against me minister. But all I am asking you is to have Black interrogated right here, right now under the influence of the truth potion."

Fudge spluttered, muttering incoherent words.

"I believe I do have a vial of Veritaserum on me minister," said Robards, choosing that moment to interrupt.

Fudge glared at the tall black Auror but conceded.  
"Alright fine," he snapped. "Administer the truth potion Auror," he barked.

Dumbledore was pleased to see Fudge was doing things formally. He removed a parchment and a Wizengamot approved court quill from his drawer. The quill immediately began writing whatever was being said in the room.

"This is the informal interrogation of Sirius Orion Black. The interrogation committee consists of Head of Wizengamot - Albus Wulfric Brian Percival Dumbledore, Minister Cornelius Fudge and Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt," said Dumbledore quietly.

Kingsley dropped three drops of the liquid on Sirius's tongue who was looking extremely nervous. Almost instantly Sirius felt the effects of the potion kick in and his mind went blank.

"What is your name prisoner," asked Fudge.

"Sirius Orion Black," he said in a monotonous tone.

"Minister," interrupted Dumbledore.

"What?"

"Do you mind if I ask the accused the required questions as I am the Supreme Mugwump."

Fudge's eyes narrowed in anger but he nodded stiffly, knowing he could say anything unwanted. After all, the court quill copied every single word spoken.

"When did you break out of prison Mr. Black?"

"It was a few days after the visit from the minister of magic."

"Why did you break out of prison?"

"To kill Peter Pettigrew and to protect Harry Potter."

This time even Kingsley was shocked.

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew Mr. Black?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"No I did not," was the flat reply.

If it possible, Fudge's mouth dropped lower than it already was. Kingsley's mouth had dropped open too and that was saying something for the normally calm man.

"Please explain the events that happened on the day you attacked Peter Pettigrew, Mr. Black."

"I found Peter Pettigrew near the entrance to his home in Muggle London. Peter saw me and realized I was there to kill him. But before I could do anything he yelled out that I had betrayed Lily and James and proceeded to cast a _confringo_ spell with his wand behind his back. I shielded but then he threw a Bombarda on the gas line. Thirteen muggles were killed and he cut of his finger to make it look like I was the one guilty of casting the spell."

"Why did attempt to kill Mr. Pettigrew," asked Dumbledore quietly.

"Because he betrayed Lily and James to Lord Voldemort."

"In what way did he betray them?"

"He was their secret keeper. He was a death eater and he informed Lord Voldemort of their location."

"Are you saying you were not their secret keeper?"

"No I was not."

"But you told everybody including myself that you were the secret keeper."

"It was a bluff."

"I don't believe there are any more questions to be asked," said Dumbledore grimly, glancing at the minister who was staring at Sirius in shock and horror.

Shock, because of the enormous political impact his confession would make and horror, because of the amount the man had gone through knowing that he was innocent.  
Fudge wasn't a politician for nothing, he knew that keeping a Lord of an Ancient House in prison, without being convicted would mean political suicide.

"Do you have any questions Minister?" asked Dumbledore, bring the minister out of his thoughts.

"No, no I do not. Sirius Orion Black, after intensive interrogation under the influence of the truth potion, I declare you innocent of the charges that placed you in Azkaban and stop the manhunt for you with effect immediately. Headmaster Dumbledore, please deactivate the quill."

Dumbledore obliged, beaming with happiness.

"Auror Robards, please recall all personell involved in the man hunt for Sirius Black," he said handing over the quill and the parchment to the tall Auror.

"What about the Dementors minister?"

"They will go as well. I will hand over the required documents to Amelia tomorrow."

"I'm sure Dumbledore will take good care of him and the healer at Hogwarts can examine him and submit a report to the ministry." He finished.

"It will be done Minister," said Dumbledore.

"Very well, Sirius Black, you are now a free man," said the Minister and stood up. "You are likely to be summoned to the ministry in a day or two Mr. Black for a statement and a press release. Good day Dumbledore," he said and left the room quickly beckoning Kingsley to follow him.

Dumbledore sighed happily and turned to Sirius who could not comprehend what had just happened.

"I'm free," he kept muttering. "I'm a free man."

"One last question, off the record of course." Dumbledore prodded.

'Ask away! It's _"ask Sirius twenty thousand questions_ " day anyway.'

"How did you know where Harry was during the fight with Moony?"

"I heard Moony's howl. Padfoot wanted to come out to play. I just rushed to him, and then... you know."

"Very well..."

"Now where the hell is my Godson?"


	16. ROTD 16 : Resettling in

Daphne rushed into the hospital wing on hearing that Harry was wounded in a fight with a monster the previous evening. In spite of Madam Pomfrey's ramblings about "teenage hormones" and "loud and noisy" and some other such things, she didn't stop until she had reached Harry's bed.

"Harry!" she rushed, "Are you alright?"

"Hey Daph!"

"Don't 'hey Daph' me! Harrison James Potter. You may be some good great wizard but that doesn't mean you will cause me this much worry every single day!"

"Aww! You do care!"

Daphne hit him on the shoulder.

"Hey! Injured person here, please limit your emotions, violent woman!" Harry teased, rubbing his shoulder lightly.

" _Violent_? I will show you violent", Daphne whipped out her wand, and right at that moment, Madam Pomfrey's voice boomed from behind her.

"Okay enough! Potter needs rest, now out!" She screamed in her _professional_ voice.

* * *

Sirius Black's face had been turning in and out of various shades as a variety of emotions splashed his mind as he heard all about his godson's life from Dumbledore. Pushing aside his desire to beat the shit out of the old man, he stood up and stated calmly.

"What do you mean, Harry _exaggerates_ about his home life?"

Dumbledore looked up and notice the cold, calculating yet slightly murderous look on Sirius' face and then answered, "harry has always held the fact that his relatives mistreat him. Why in fact he-"

"You old wizened moron! I was there when he left his home this summer!" Sirius all but shouted.

"You were?" Dumbledore looked at him skeptically, and perhaps a little coldly after the obvious insult.

"yes!", Sirius sighed, "I wanted to see how my godson looked like, after all these years. At least I wanted one look at him before I left out to find Pettigrew."

"Can you tell me what occurred that night?"

Sirius sat down. "there was this fat and down-right nasty old lady who was insulting the memory of Harry's parents. And suddenly the room began to shake and that nasty lady started to swell up like a big balloon. I swear I would have laughed my ass out if I wasn't in my grim-form hiding in the hedge. After that nasty muggle flew out of the window, that fat-ass-of-a-muggle Harry called "Uncle" started to beat Harry up. I was about to intrude but the muggle was shoved aside. I didn't think much about it then. Now that I think, it was Harry's accidental magic showing perhaps! Harry then shoved his trunk down the lane and I would have caught up to him, when the Knight Bus appeared out of nowhere and Harry went away. Although I did have some of the revenge after that."

Dumbledore wiped his forehead. "What did you do, Sirius?"

"I may have bitten his ass off in my grim form, before I disappeared."

Dumbledore didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

Severus Snape was irritated. No scratch that, he was _bloody angry_! How dare that Potter spawn get out alive from that situation? It felt too _bad_ to be true. He was so bloody happy, it just felt like yesterday when Sirius Black had sent him to his death by the hands of that _werewolf Lupin_! Severus had somehow returned alive out of the scenario. No thanks to that arse James Potter. The fellow must have realized that he was getting the chance to show his heroism and gallantry!

Arse! And to think that Dumbledore had let off Black go unharmed by the entire situation with just a pat on his arm. What was it? Oh yes, a hundred points from Gryffindor! His life, Severus Snape's life, just worth a hundred points? Unbearable atrocity! No doubt the Dark Lord never liked that old fool of a headmaster!

Severus had been so pleased to turn the tables. Just like Black had sent him to his death at the hands of a werewolf, similarly Severus had sent his blasted godson to his death by the hands of the same werewolf! It was almost poetic justice, except that it hadn't been meted out. _Yet..._

And to believe that said werewolf was living off as the professor of the position Severus had coveted for years...

"Sir?"

"What?" Severus turned around, his trademarked sneer rising automatically to his lips.

It was Pansy Parkinson.

"Sir. I wanted to ask if we were to have our Defense classes today. I heard someone say that Professor Lupin was sick or something..."

"Yes," Severus Snape sneered, "He is sick and will not be able to provide for the class today after all because" _his sneer turned into a narrow smirk_ , "let's just say, his _affliction_ prevents him from being present all the time."

"His... affliction?" Pansy confirmed bluntly. No one had ever accused Pansy Parkinson to be a genius anyway.

"Oh did I mention that?" Severus sneered back, his sneer now _shifting_ into a _well-calculated and considered worry_ , "Please miss Parkinson, do _not_ share the fact under any circumstances that Professor Lupin is a werewolf. It wouldn't do good for him. I'm sure you understand?"

Pansy slowly nodded, almost catching up.

"good! Now off you go!" Severus marched out of the room.

* * *

Sirius Black and the now-back-to-normal Remus Lupin arrived at the Hospital wing. Harry was just being provided with his last sips of potions. Finding Sirius and Remus ahead, Harry called out.

"Hello Professor! How are you now?"

"I'm fine now Harry. Just not your professor anymore."

"What? Why?"

"It seems somebody let the fact around that I'm a werewolf and a danger to the students here."

Harry and Daphne glanced at each other momentarily. The fact that they did it simultaneously brought a slight blush on their faces.

"It was Snape. Wasn't it?"

Lupin nodded. And then as realization hit him, he asked, "Miss Greengrass, it does not surprise you that I'm a werewolf?"

Daphne grinned. "Not really professor. You have been absent on the last two full moons. Your boggart also gave it away when you were helping me face it and I couldn't."

"yes!" Remus laughed weakly, thinking of that incident." Your boggart was... _interesting_!"

Harry wondered what the boggart might have formed for Daphne. He glanced at her, and surprisingly, she looked away.

 _Need to file this up for later..._

Sirius Black might have been a ladies' man, might have a runaway prisoner, might have been the only wizard to escape Azkaban, but at that moment, he was all lull and silent.

Harry suddenly glanced up at his ragged look and exclaimed lightly, "Mr. Black!"

"Sirius. Call me Sirius", he croaked.

"Sirius!" Harry smiled.

"You might not know but James made me your-"

"Godfather!" Harry ended the line. "yes I know! I have known that for some time! That you are innocent." He added looking at Sirius' dumbstruck face.

"How?" he somehow formulated his awry thoughts into words.

"Would the betrayer of my parents' blood-adopt me as his heir? Besides Grimjaw told me how you were never given a trial. I still had my doubts, I will give you that, but that was all solved that day at Hogsmeade."

" _That_ day at Hogsmeade?" Lupin asked, curious.

"oh yes!" Harry laughed, "I had been to my first date with Daphne. It was something like..."

 _Harry spotted the minister of magic Cornelius Fudge entering into the Three Broomsticks along with Minerva McGonagall and Flitwick. Something told him that this was important, and he led Daphne along with him into the bar._

 _"Daph, I want you to play interference for some time, so that I can enter into their room and listen to what they are talking about. Will you?"_

 _Daphne's eyes widened. She knew about Sirius Black and the different evidences that Harry had about him. Harry had talked to her, about how he thought that there was a slight chance that he was innocent. She also knew what the public and the ministry thought about that. However, her father never even_ _implied that he thought Sirius Black had any connections with You-Know-Who. In fact, he often wondered how a Black could be so puritanical._

 _"Okay, I will do it. But I owe you one, Harrison."_

 _Harry pulled over his invisibility cloak over himself and followed Fudge into the bar. He observed Fudge go sit with McGonagall, Flitwick and an unknown person at a table near a corner of the bar. A couple of moments later, Madam Rosemerta seemed to join them up._

 _Harry followed along until he was right behind Fudge, and leaned in slightly to hear what they were discussing about._

* * *

"I heard about how you were incarcerated and sent to Azkaban, and how you had killed Peter Pettigrew and thirteen muggles. I also heard him talking about how you were Voldemort's right hand man." Harry smiled at Sirius' lack of reaction over his uttering of the tabooed word.

"It just didn't match up with my calculations."

Remus was staring at him, smiling softly. "You know Harry; you may look like James. But your innermost personality is much like Lily. Why you even have her eyes!"

Harry smiled back at him at his response.

" So what happens now?" he asked Sirius.

"Right now I need to leave for the Valley Clinic at Thailand. I have heard they are excellent at mind-healing. I think I should be good to return back in some months. Then, I can start rebuilding my house."

He paused.

"Well . . . your parents appointed me your guardian," Sirius continued stiffly. "If anything happened to them . . ."

Harry waited. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Black. "But . . . well . . . think about it. Now that my name's cleared and all, . . . if you wanted a . . . a different home . . ."

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"What — live with you?" he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly.

"I understand, I just thought I'd —"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

Black's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed and made merry at Harry's parents' wedding.

"Yes Harry, I do have an old dilapidated house. The black townhouse in London. Right now, it is not in any position for living in, but once I return, I can clear it and make it habitable."

Harry nodded. "You know; we could always live in my house at Wales. Apparently, I have a manor there, one of the three that I have inherited.

"one of the three?" Sirius prodded.

"Yes!" Harry told him about his claiming of his lordships of Potter and Slytherin at Gringotts. He very conveniently left the Eveningshade matter out of the story. He mentioned his betrothal to Daphne and everything that followed. Sirius and Remus were surprised, shocked and curious.

"You don't seem to mind that I _am_ Lord Slytherin or that I am betrothed to one!" harry asked curiously. His father's journals had sadly described him as a person who hated Slytherin with extreme prejudice while in school. Naturally, Harry had thought Sirius to be of the same mentality.

"Should I have minded Prongslet?" Sirius laughed.

"I know we were bullies while in school and hated Slytherin with a passion, but I am now older and saner", Remus laughed here at the statement, "But I later understood and accepted the fact that not everyone coming from that house is evil. Hell, my cousin Andromeda was a Slytherin and she was an angel. And you say your mother was the Slytherin heiress herself, and she was the sweetest person I ever knew!"

"So tell me Prongslet, anybody ever gave you _the Talk_?"

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously.


	17. ROTD 17 : Learning

**### Finally an update! And yes, this story is the same as the original, albeit a couple of added pieces of information at places.** **### I know the talk about the time-turner does give the story a "Cadmean-victory" vibe, but it felt perfect to introduce the time turner concept here. Anyways, I will ask the author for his permission on that if required. Reviews, reviews! everyone!**

Daphne was sitting in the Slytherin common room. Blaise, Theo, Tracy and herself were discussing over the happenings that had occurred over the last few days. She had consulted t with Harry and got a green signal from him, that it was all right to talk about whatever happened with her friends; how Professor Lupin ad transformed into a werewolf and attacked Harry and the twins, how Black had arrived into the fight and how Harry's timely animagus transformation had held the wild werewolf at bay. Needless to say, everyone was deeply engrossed in the tale.

"What I don't understand is how the Headmaster could ever allow someone like that in a school full of children" Theo began.

"Well, that's Dumbledore for you!" Tracy interrupted.

"Well, everything put aside, you have to agree that Lupin was the best DADA teacher we got so far. And it's over three months into the term. And I personally think that the one time he transforms wildly is the time when he is with Harry is not just a coincidence." Daphne addressed.

"You think someone forced him to..." Tracy began.

"That night wasn't a full moon one." Blaise put in.

"Exactly my point!" Daphne ended smugly.

"You mean to say... Someone intentionally forced a werewolf in its wild form when he was with Potter?" Theo asked, his eyes widening.

"It certainly appears to be so..." Daphne replied.

"Does Potter have any clues on who it might be?" Tracy asked, wonderstruck.

"Well, had he been his former Grffindorish self, it wouldn't have taken him to name Snape as the culprit. However, nobody was there except Lupin, Harrison, the Weasleys and Pettigrew. Unless Pettigrew had another hidden wand up his sleeve, I don't know how Lupin got struck with a curse, if a curse it was that struck him." Daphne deadpanned.

"Well, Professor Snape did let the word out that Lupin was a werewolf afterwards. I will give you that. But for him to force Lupin to change and attack Potter, that's almost accusing him of attempting Potter's murder. The idea, you have to accept, is quite far-fetching." Blaise put in his thoughts.

"How is Potter taking it?" Theo asked Daphne.

"Better than expected really. Although he is now more focused on learning more defensive magic than before. He was completely out levelled by Lupin in his werewolf form, and had it not been for his sudden animagus transformation, He would have surely been killed, or at the very least, heavily injured."

Blaise nodded sharply.

* * *

"Now repeat that wand movement again!"

Harry was inside the Chamber of Secrets, learning new spells and forms of magic from Salazar. He had taken a more active approach to learning magic than before. Having Daphne and Salazar in his life had somehow made him a bit lax about things, now that he thought of it. Ever since he had discovered his parentage, his magical studies had taken a drop in priority, so engrossed and obsessed was he in learning about his ancestry. But the encounter with the werewolf had opened his eyes.

 _I will never be in such a desperate situation due to the lack of spell knowledge again!_

"The incantation is _Fortis Aegis_ , and the wand movement, as such" Salazar instructed, "Normally most shield spells are similar in nature, ad serve as a resistance to oncoming curses, but higher and powerful forms of shields hold out more attacks than a lower form. However, that being said, lower shields like the _Protego_ are easier to cast. Hence it is used more widely than the others. You however, shall not follow the trend."

"Why not?"

"Because while higher shield forms are difficult to cast, they are much easier to maintain if you can cast them successfully. Take the Aegis and the Protego for a comparison example. The _Protego_ when successfully cast by an above average wizard can hold out at most two standard stunning spells. On the contrary, an aegis shield will hold out around ten standard stunning spells. So if you can cast the aegis, it will be a formidable and effective shield in battle, especially against spells of lower energy equivalent."

"What exactly is a standard stunning spell?" Harry inquired.

Salazar smirked, "Tell me Harry, how would you describe a perfectly cast spell?"

Harry thought for a moment. His first reaction was to say that the perfect spell casting was when cast at full power, but then he improvised the thought. He thought about the applications of Arithmancy on spell creation from his mothers' journal and thought out his answer.

"A perfectly cast spell would be one that aligns all components of a derived spell to perfection, and magically pushes them collectively to their exact limit."

"Couldn't say better myself!" Salazar exclaimed, making Harry blush at the compliment. Heir of Slytherin or not, he wasn't still very comfortable about accepting compliments, something that had been ingrained in him during his years slaving away at the Dursleys.

"And now to answer your question, such a perfectly cast spell defines what went by as a standard spell in my time."

"I assume that holds true only when the Protego and aegis are cast perfectly too" Harry interrupted.

"Correct!"

"Now let's see you casting a perfect aegis spell. Go on!"

Harry focused on the words and wand action mimicking what Salazar had shown him. He said the words, " _Fortis Aegis_ ," and copied the wand movements. A slight silver shield snapped into being. Harry stared at it pleased with himself that he had cast the shield on the first try. The silver had very small ripples in it moving very slowly over the surface.

"Well enough for the first try, but not quite up to the mark," Salazar prompted, and then adding "yet. Try again. Focus on the feel, the color shall be silver and there should be no ripples if cast correctly."

Harry tried to redirect that feeling, that being, in him to create a shield. Harry said the words and did the wand motion again. This time he only stared at Salazar when the silver shield appeared.

Salazar wore a vacant expression on his face as the shield appeared and remained. He examined it closely and found the ripples were very small and moving rapidly over the surface.

 _Second time and he gets it. Not even Shezar could boast about such a feat!_

 _"_ Respectable enough Descendant! Now moving on, we have another shield to learn today and then I need you to learn a couple of offensive spells. On a side note, did you finish that book on wards I told you to finish?"

At Harry's nod, he continued, "I need you to attain a certain proficiency in defensive and offensive spell magic. Only after that can I begin to teach you about the more intricate forms of magic."

"What forms are you going to teach me?"

"Well I need to teach you the mind magicks of Occlumency and Legilimency before everything else. Till you are proficient enough to hold your own, your family rings shall protect you from a decent mental intrusion. However, their protections, however powerful, are limited in nature. You must have your own shields to aid your rings in case you are attacked deliberately."

"I read about Legilimency, but not much was given. I assume it is a form of mind-reading." Harry asked.

"Incorrect, or rather, inadequate. The term Legilimency refers to the art of using the mind to acquire information directly rather than through sensory input, while Occlumency refers to the art of using the mind to both organize and conceal information. Like Occlumency, Legilimency is a seven-tiered skill. But while the seven degrees of Occlumency must be learned sequentially, Legilimency is instead a cluster of closely-related skill sets, the most infamous of which allows the Legilimens to directly study the memories of another."

Harry silently absorbed the information. Getting information out of people's mind. Somehow one face came up in the fore front of his thoughts. _Severus Snape_! The bat of the Dungeons! Somehow Snape always seemed to know when Harry was lying to him. Another image came to his mind; this time it was Dumbledore. He remembered how Dumbledore could always understand what Harry was thinking and that X-ray feeling he felt whenever Dumbledore scrutinized him with his twinkling blue eyes behind those half-moon spectacles.

"I have a feeling that Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore are Legilimens."

"Well I am not surprised, to hold the wards of the school and maintain it requires enormous mental power. It is expected for every Headmaster or mistress to be at leasta fifth-level Occlumens and a decent enough Legilimens." Salazar intoned.

"We have strayed away from the main conversation. Anyway, after you are proficient in the mind arts, I shall begin teaching you the esoteric magical arts."

"Magick powered by emotion?"

"Magick _derived_ from emotion. There is a difference, descendant. You need to understand your own mental self and be in charge of your own emotions if you have any hope of mastering esoteric magic. Yes one may refute the fact saying that the more powerful the emotion, the better the esoteric spell casted, but that is not true all the time. One needs to understand the exact nature of the emotion required to fuel up an esoteric spell in order to cast it perfectly."

Harry nodded and Salazar continued, "The Patronus for instance. It thrives in the presence of Happiness. The general idea behind casting a Patronus according to the ministry standards is to procure a happy memory. This, however correct, is rather inadequate. What you need is a _happy emotion_ , you need to feel happy, the memory itself is insignificant. Students are asked to focus on the memory simply because it is a sure shot happy focus. On the downside, focusing on the memory is difficult in presence of Dementors and that is what makes mastering such a spell difficult. However, for a Occlumens, casting a Patronus should be something of a second nature."

Harry absorbed everything Salazar said. He honestly preferred this mode of instruction over Hogwarts' teaching. Salazar would explain a concept, show him how to do it and then leave Harry on his own to experiment with the spell on his own. He would later come up and explain Harry a few implementations that he had added to the existing spell, not giving a thought about what the ministry's version was.

"I wish I could spend more time here, learning from you. It come easy to me, the way you explain things to me. The classes are dreadfully boring and I am already ahead in my classes. If not for the new challenges that Professor McGonagall provides, I would be awfully bored."

"For those who have a lack of time to learn, I have something that might help." Salazar grinned.

Harry's eyes brightened when he saw what Salazar was pointing it.

"Is that a-"

"Time-turner. Yes. However, it may go back only by fifteen hours. But I warn you, you need to sleep for more two hours for every ten hour rotation."

"Deal." Harry grinned.

"But remember the rules of magic my heir, you must not be seen at two places at the same time."

"Fine. I will use it when spending time either here or in the Room of Requirement. Nobody would have a chance to see me at two places at once."

"So be it." Salazar smiled.

"Now back to Defensive casting. This shield will-" Salazar began.

Harry turned his focus back to shield casting.

* * *

Fred and George Weasley were walking back from the Hospital wing. Both of them were in high spirits, especially ever since they had met one of their inspirations a couple of days ago, thanks to Harry. They still could not digest the fact that they had a marauder as their defense teacher and another, disguised as a rat in their family for twelve years. It was just surreal.

"You reckon ickle Harrikins will be living with the Marauders from next year?"

"I do, Forge."

"Hey, I am supposed to be Forge today. You are supposed to be Gred."

"Was I? Hmm, I suppose I could."

"We would never have found about all this if not Hermione-"

The words stopped midway in Fred's mouth as he and George looked each other.

"Hermione!" They deadpanned together.


	18. ROTD 18 : A practice session

The Room of Requirement! Or the Room of Illusions! Whatever one might call it, but to Harry's mind, there couldn't exist any better room anywhere in Hogwarts, and that included the Chamber of Secrets. Rowena Ravenclaw hadn't left any stone unturned when she had built this amazing construct. In spite of being on the seventh floor, the room was magically the center of the castle, residing somehow at base level, built on the very ground on which four ley-lines met and crisscrossed each other. The room also had a hidden door which magically led to the Chamber of Secrets, the Headmaster's office and into Godric's personal secret chambers. It had taken Harry a single stroke of luck to acquire the knowledge of the location of this amazing room. To think that countless other wizards and witches had tirelessly searched for all these years, and all it had taken Harry to accomplish that very thing by a random quick question, asked to a rather excited elf.

Harry closed his eyes and imagined a perfect training room. Once he sensed the magic in the room suddenly change, he opened his eyes. The empty stone-walled room had been replaced by one filled with armory, weapons and training dummies. He activated two of the dummies to Auror levels and began casting. This was his chance to actually see how much he had mastered the spells he was learning by being Salazar's apprentice.

" _Praesidium_ " he chanted, calling forth a rather large, concave shield around himself. What he got was a very strong sturdy shield, which according to Salazar, was easy to maintain and offered long term protection against low powered spells, at least enough to finish the duel. The pale red stunners splashed against his shield and Harry was proud to see the shield hold against them without breaking.

 _More effective! I may never have to use Protego ever again!_

He ran towards the dummies, casting two continuous streams of the _Everbero_ curse at them. One of the dummies rolled to the side while the other was blasted away by ten feet. The room sensed his desires and procured two more dummies instantly. Harry grinned at the new challenge. Both dummies threw severing and bludgeoning curses constantly at him. He felt his shield falter, rolled out by the side, cast an aegis shield over himself and sent two bludgeoning spells in return. The ever increasing number of dummies blocked the spells and returned fire with stronger blasting curses. Harry side stepped one of them but the other hit him in his left shoulder causing him to flip out and fall down. He somehow balanced himself and yelled out " _Clypeus fortium_ "

Immediately a pale blue shield sprang into existence. Salazar had been particular about Harry learning this shield. It was one of the very few shields that could actually deflect away spells of power equivalent to a standard Everbero. The pain in his leg made him sure of the fact that one of his knee bones had been badly injured, if not shattered. Curses continued to rain down from the six dummies onto Harry's shield. He could see the cracks appearing along the surface of his shield and knew that he just had one chance to win or lose the mock- battle.

 _Any moment now!_

With a rather audible crack his shield broke and faded away into sparkles of energy as a rather angry crimson spell hit on its surface. Harry threw up a blasting curse in the path of the crimson spell, causing a smoke screen to appear. _Now or Never!_

 _"_ _Aucta vi clypeum!" _

A wave of golden light erupted from his wand and radiated in all directions. The wave of energy literally bathed him as it splashed against the dummies, throwing them away in different directions. It was his strongest shield cum attack spell yet. It served as a shield while blasting away everything in a five metre radius outward by at least five feet if cast correctly. Harry stood up and waved his wand out, and the Room stopped procuring further dummies.

 _It was a good practice session! Now let's see how effective the healing potions I created in the chamber, actually are._

He took out his moke-skin bottomless pouch, his latest acquisition from his last visit to Hogsmeade. He had made sure to keep his emergency potion stock, a pile of galleons, his invisibility cloak, the time-turner and his grandfather's wand inside it. His grandfather's wand had been a surprise. When he had visited Gringotts for House Business, he had taken time to visit his family vault. Sitting aloft a table were numerous wands, the most recent addition being his mother's and father's wands, which had been collected from Godric's Hollow after their death by the Goblins. On a whim, he had tried those wands, but it was rather a surprise when it was not his parent's but rather his grandfather's wand that felt comfortable to him. _Ebony and wyvern heartstring_ , a rather uncommon combination. But since when had anything normal happened with Harry anyway. He had kept that wand with himself since then, figuring that it would serve as an extra if he ever lost his wand during a fight.

He took out his trunk from his robe belt and took out a new pair of Hogwarts uniform. Casting his frayed and dirty dueling robes aside he dressed up in his uniform and got ready. Since the previous day, he had begun this habit to keeping his trunk with himself, shrunk and safe inside his belt. On hearing about how Hermione had nonchalantly entered into his dorm room and begun inspecting his stuff without even asking permission from him, Harry's first reaction was to rage and rant out to Hermione about her meddlesome behavior. But perhaps it was the effect of his association with Salazar, that kept him from his, rather Grffindorish tendencies. He hadn't said anything to Hermione, in fact had completely ignored her rather loud shout aimed at him in the morning. Hermione had been sullen about that ever since.

Healed, packed, dressed up and ready, he took out the time turner from his pouch and began twisting it.

 _Five turns should do the job! I had entered the Chamber six hours ago under my cloak anyway._

Nobody could have saw him. He felt the magic around him twist and morph. Feeling that it was the chronomantic magic of the time turner, Harry exited out of the Room.

He never saw the pair of brown eyes watch him silently as he took a sharp turn down the sixth year corridor.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was in a pensive mood. The last few days were ... exciting to say the least. First, the changes in Harry, then the truth of Pettigrew, Sirius' trial and subsequent freedom from chains, Remus' resignation on behalf of the public knowledge of his being a werewolf, and now, he had to find another defense teacher to last for the year. Perhaps he would have to grant Severus the post for the remaining of the year. He did not know why, but it always felt dodgy to him, whenever he had thought about granting Severus the post of DADA teacher. The feeling was inexplicable, but something about Severus prevented Dumbledore from granting the post to him. On top of that, the curse of the DADA position made it extremely difficult for him. No teacher had ever stayed up at Hogwarts more than a year, on taking the position. Something would happen, something just had to happen, somehow the teacher would resign, or at most, die. Most teachers normally felt certain difficulties arise and had to inadvertently resign and leave. He remembered Professor Matthews during the year 1987-1988 who went insane during the new year. It was a strange curse, something that only Lord Voldemort could do! Dumbledore had tried to break the curse, but the curse was chanted in Parseltongue and carried its own brand of magical weaving, something a non-speaker could never envisage. Simply said, Dumbledore could do nothing but watch as Professors came and went, and the state of Hogwarts's teaching fall down year after year.

Gulping a lemon tart, his mind refocused on Severus Snape. He wondered why the man let out the secret of Remus' affliction go public. Severus had never grown out of his petty angst and grudge over James Potter, even after twelve years of his death. Perhaps it was the petty feeling of defeat seeing his childhood tormentor Sirius Black go free that made Severus behave with such rashness. He would talk to him about it.

He took out and gulped in another lemon tart.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick were having a quiet evening together over a bottle of fresh mead. It was their weekly program to have their mead-accompanied-meeting every Sunday and talk about random stuff, life at school, old memories, nostalgia and what not. Today however, the topic centered around ne green-eyed teen who had, quite frankly, amazed them both out of their wits.

Harry Potter.

Ever since Minerva had that initial conversation with Harry wherein he promised that his performance would be nothing short of extra-ordinary that year, she had felt her hopes fly high. Lily and James were among her favorite students, and she had been initially saddened to see their only child show noting more than average performance on his arrival. Even so, Harry had not even tried to do his studies diligently, always gallivanting away with that lazy Weasley boy or laying chess. Initially they had reminded her of a certain Potter and a raven-haired Black, ut those two were diligent, smart and always at the top of the class. Sure they had been pranksters, but they kept their class performance at outstanding level. It had been for that sole reason that she let them a lot of leeway in school. The fact that those two extremely cheeky buggers were on the Quidditch team also helped.

Potter and Weasley however, were different. Weasley was the laziest individual she had ever met. He was loud and had no sense of decency in behavior and manners. She could almost count the number of times he was dressed properly so far in one hand. Whatever made Harry be friends with that boy, she could never understand.

Hermione Granger on the other hand, was an extremely different persona. She had yet to meet another person so obsessive about books. She had been into the teaching profession over fifty years and had had seen many generations of Ravenclaws come and go, and this girl had exceeded all of them and then some. How she got sorted into Gryffindor, Minerva would never know! But all that was all right, she could still understand her obsessive need to cram things up, for all things said and done, the girl was very good in performing magical spells. No doubt she read and practiced the spells beforehand, but still it showed her willingness to learn magic. That was actually appreciable. What was not was her rather snobbish attitude toward other students. Minerva remembered Severus ranting quite vocally how the girl would just not stop raising her hand at every question Severus asked in class. Her behavior in Transfiguration was similar. In fact, she had heard several students angrily complaining how unfair it was that that girl was Harry Potter's friend. Minerva was sure that it was only Harry Potter's fame and popularity that protected the girl from being an outcast in her own House at Hogwarts. Now, even that protection seemed to be almost fading away as Harry had apparently moved onto newer friend circles. She decided that she needed to have a personal talk with Hermione before her behavior made life difficult for her at school.

"So Filius, what challenges are you planning for Harry next?"

Filius grinned as he put down his glass on the table, "Spell- chains!"

"Spell-chains?"

"Spell-chains!" Flitwick confirmed.

"Don't' you think that's a bit early for now... even for Harry?"

"Mr. Potter has already moved on to Fifth-year charms Minerva. He performed the banishing charm silently during our private instruction the other day."

Minerva gaped, her surprise turning into a smile. A proud smile. "He is indeed showing nothing but extraordinary performance as he promised."

"That he is Minerva. That he is."

* * *

A young girl stood in front of the Room of Requirement. She walked across the room three times, demanding a place she desired. The door didn't open. That meant someone was using the room. She didn't think anyone had ever known about this secret room apart from her. But it seemed that was not the case.

Her lips twisted to form a cruel smirk.

* * *

 **### guess who?**

 **reviews!**


	19. ROTD 19 : A muggleborn's tale

Hermione Granger hated not knowing things. She hated it when people kept secrets from her. She had been a perfect student all her life, ever since primary school. Prodigy! They called her. When her friends were just learning to do primary mathematics, she was solving algebraic problems on her own. Knowledge and information were important to her, friends were not. She still remembered how her class mates at her primary school used to make fun of her for being a bookworm. She also remembered being happy and giddy when the teacher gave her points for answering questions in class. The teachers adored her, she became their favorite, and books became her solace from the boring world outside. And then, one day, that strange letter arrived.

Hogwarts! Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry! A school for magic. A school where students like her went to. She had always associated the strange things associated with her to be a bit different from normal. Unexplainable. Just like her being a prodigy in studies. When Professor McGonagall told her about her being a witch, she was so pleased. She always knew she was... _special_. The boys and girls at school never understood her. She was quite in a fit to learn all she could before leaving for Hogwarts. Perhaps every child there was a prodigy like her. It had made her excited and anxious at the same time. Excited because she was going to discover a new world of magic, ad anxious because she feared that others would be better than her. She didn't want to lose her _special_ tag. However, everything changed when she met that pale, lean, green-eyed enigma on the train.

Harry Potter.

She had met him on the train. At first he seemed like another random boy, perhaps muggleborn like her, talking with that obnoxious manner less redhead, who she later came to know as Ron Weasley. She had even repaired his glasses, though she did that to show off her magical knowledge a bit (not that she would ever admit it). Besides, the glasses needed repairing anyway. She was astounded to know that the guy was Harry Potter, defeater of You-Know-Who (though she did not know who) when he was only a year old. The underweight boy hardly looked like someone who had repelled a killing curse and defeated the darkest of wizards. And he seemed to be amazed at her prodigal skill at performing the _reparo_ charm. She couldn't help but feel rather smug at it.

* * *

 _Halloween 1991._

Harry Potter jumped on the back of a mountain troll. Harry Potter came in to save her life. No boy had ever done that for her. Boys were icky, they had always made fun of her. Harry had saved her. Hermione Granger, muggleborn.

There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them. From that moment on, Hermione Granger became Harry Potter's friend.

The remainder of the year went in a flighty temptress of adventure, marching through three-headed dogs, creepy killer vines, slicing statues and possessed professors. There was also a walk through flames somewhere in the middle. Her parents were happy that she had a friend who existed outside a book. As for Ron Weasley, he came as a forced addition, if she had to keep her friendship with Harry. She didn't mind.

* * *

Second Year. Harry Potter became notorious as the Heir of Slytherin. Not that she believed. Harry had not shown any spectacular performances in class so far. He was hardly an above-average student, if at all. And petrifaction? She didn't even know the spell. There was no way Harry could have done it. After all, she was always the first one to master any spell. It made her feel all giddy inside, whenever she condescended over the other pureblood students, showing it off that it was she who did it correct, that she knew best. She, Hermione Granger, muggleborn.

It had been her greatest feeling of superiority when she figured out the truth about the Chamber of Secrets. It was a basilisk! A basilisk stalking the halls of Hogwarts, petrifying Muggleborns. She decided to go and tell Harry. she had written down "pipes" in hope that if she would get petrified, Harry would be able to figure out everything else. But then, she changed her mind. She knew more spells than Harry did anyway. If he could do it, so could she. She had taken a mirror and started to look for the basilisk around the corners.

It had been to her greatest displeasure when she had woken up after nearly four months into the term, after Harry had already defeated the basilisk, and rescued the little Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets. She was infuriated to hear that not only Harry and Ron had been granted two hundred points apiece, but also awarded trophies for special services to the school. Harry, that was still all right, but Ron? Seriously? She had done the homework, she had figured out everything, and all she got was a petrifaction for four months. It was an atrocity! It was with a heavy heart that Hermione had decided to do her best next year.

* * *

Third year. Harry had changed. He was completely changed. He was no longer the under confident guy that Hermione could drive by the nose. He was more confident, and carried himself with an innate sense of authority. He aura was similar to the professors at school, confident and charming. But he also didn't seem to need her for every single thing and that made Hermione scared. What had happened to Harry? At first, she thought it was because of the incident at the Chamber. But then after having a look at his friends, her thoughts changed. Harry was hanging out with Daphne Greengrass of all people!

 _Greengrass!_ How she hated the girl! The Slytherin Ice-Queen. The pretty (slutty in her opinion) girl who was the object of the wet dreams of most of the third and fourth year boys of her House, the girl who was nigh untouchable because of her prodigal powers at ice-curses (hence the name Ice-Queen, or so she supposed), the girl who had beaten her for the final exams in the last two years consecutively and the girl who was better than she was at Runes and Arithmancy! She Hermione Granger, was the smartest witch of her age! McGonagall had told her so. And Daphne had beaten her at her own game. Hermione had even gotten McGonagall to get her a time-turner for extra classes (and extra advance preparatory time not that she would admit) but somehow that bitch always over scored her. Her hands would pain because of her constant uplifting them in hopes to answer questions, but the professors would often choose Daphne to answer them, and that bitch didn't even raise her finger. And that attitude! It drove Hermione mad.

And now Greengrass had her nails into Harry. That was unbearable. Harry was her friend. Harry had, after all, saved her from that monster of the troll. Just like one of those Harry Potter tales she had read before coming to Hogwarts, Harry who had been her best friend, didn't even glance at her when she stalked him in the morning. Even Ron seemed to share her sentiments, although sometimes she felt that the Weasley had a secret crush on her. But he was nothing compared to Harry. Harry was hers, and she would be damned if she let that slimy snake dig her claws into Harr and steal him away. She was sure that he was under some confounding spell or potion, else why would he be with that bitch? She decided to do something about it. Harry was hers to protect.

And protect she would.

* * *

 _Nobody could have saw him. He felt the magic around him twist and morph. Feeling that it was the chronomantic magic of the time turner, Harry exited out of the Room._

 _He never saw the pair of brown eyes watch him silently as he took a sharp turn down the sixth year corridor._

Hermione Granger was walking up the stairs for the seventh floor. It was a good place to use her time-turner without being detected. She was just about to cross the corridor when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Not wanting to be found, she hid behind a mermaid's statue. She was almost alarmed to see Harry Potter go down the stairs, his wand swaying in his palm. Harry's sudden proficiency at magic had alarmed Hermione recently. If she was not focused, she feared she might lose her position to Harry. Greengrass already had the top position in the school, at least Hermione was the top scorer in her house and there was no freaking way she was going to lose that tag. She was special after all. More special than the nasty purebloods that stalked the halls of Hogwarts, preaching the superiority of their blood. But what was Harry doing up there? No one ever used the seventh floor. It was filled with empty classrooms and a bunch of unused toilets anyway. Perhaps this was his secret practice area. Curiosity getting the better of her, she raced up the corridor, coincidentally in front of the wall of the Room of Requirement.

 _Where must that secret room be? There is nothing here no statues, no doors, nothing...damn..._

Hermione trashed the two dustbins away with a well-aimed kick in frustration. She was about to give in to her anger when—

The wall behind her suddenly simmered, and a door started to form.

 _So this must be the secret room where Harry must be practicing! Must be some wards to present it from being visible, but perhaps the wards weren't powerful enough..._

The door opened and she entered the large hall-like room.

 _I wonder if Harry is using some dark rituals or something to boost his performances in the class..._

 _Wonder if me too..._

There was another shimmering on a table beside her. She could see the magic fade away leaving a tattered, old book behind. The dark covers had a grim feeling to it.

 _I asked for the book. Didn't I? Is this chamber somehow connected to the Library?_

The book was completely tattered and torn, its pages almost falling out.

 _Is this how you are suddenly better Harry?_

She turned over the first page. There was writing on it, writing written by what seemed to be a very viscous liquid. The parchment of the book, it was dry... leathery... it gave her creeps. She read the words...

 ** _Unbridled emotion is the enemy of cunning and the foe of ambition..._**

 ** _For those with unsteady minds, who wear their emotions on their sleeves..._**

 ** _This is a quest of loss... and loss..._**

 _Unsteady minds?_ _She was the smartest witch of her age. If not her, then who else? Surely her mind was steady enough. If Harry could do it, surely it would be easy for her..._

 _She turned back the cover and read the title..._

 ** _arcana de artibus exhibito_** ** _..._**

It took her a couple of seconds before the meaning shocked her from within...

 ** _Secrets of the Darkest arts._**

* * *

 **### Who expected that coming? Reviews! reviews!**


	20. ROTD 20 : An Apprenticeship

"So you are still serious about being my apprentice and learning my personalization of ancient magicks?" Salazar deadpanned.

Harry was back on his usual routine to learn from Salazar. After his successful mission of finding the Room of Illusions, he had continuously pestered Salazar to allow him into his private library and teach him from his own mastery of magical arts.

" I do not really _understand_ your concern. You gave me a task to fulfill. I did it successfully. I found you the room of illusions. Now why are you hesitant to teach me your personal knowledge of the magical arts? You have never done that regarding other forms of magic. " Harry scoffed.

" I'm not hesitant my heir, just a bit concerned about the _correctness_ of the decision. Learning spell theory and battle magicks is one thing, but to swim deep into the esoteric layers, I'm simply not sure if you are ready enough for that. "

"Is there _any_ way by which I can convince you? " Harry asked. Glancing at Salazar's still silent face, he turned back but before giving off another disappointed look.

"Let me know if there is anything."

"There is something though... Although I am not sure you will agree to that. "

"At least tell me what It is, I promise to consider it. " Harry requested.

"You have to swear an oath of apprenticeship to me!" Salazar muttered out, finally after a long suffering sigh.

"Wait, that's it?" Harry blurted out, surprised.

"Do you understand what taking that oath means, my heir?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. "It means I'm answerable to you and you are my primary mentor till you release me from the apprenticeship bond."

"There is more to it than just that." Salazar sighed.

" You are my heir Harry, and for that reason, I am not going to force you into something unknowingly using my cunning. Being my apprentice means that you shall not only be answerable to me, you shall put myself under my command to some extent, at least considering what I teach you. For instance, If I forbid you to learn or practice something, you shall do that, no questions asked."

"So hypothetically should I swear to the bond, and you ask me to not pester you for ancient magical arts, I will have to stop right? Why don't you just simply negate me outright?" Harry asked, now angry.

"I swear on the sanctity of magic I shall not do that. The reason for my insisting on the oath is to put you on a ... well, on a leash in a way. The ancient magicks are a dangerous path to tread on, and knowing your precociousness and sudden rise of Gryffindor recklessness every now and then, I cannot trust you not to busy yourself in God-knows-what-tomfoolery."

Harry thought about it. On the one hand, he had just been a bit comfortable being himself. Salazar's advice and his new personality changes had a good impact on him, and he was slowly becoming a more confident person. But to go back under someone's command. Even if it was Salazar's... It was a tough decision. But if he could not trust Salazar, who could he trust?

 _Maybe that is my inner HufflePuff talking!_

"All right!" Harry sighed, "How do we go about with his oath?"

"An apprenticeship oath is an unbreakable vow. While it is normally done between two persons, however since my portrait carries a shade of my magic, it should be compatible with the vow's requirements. Spread out your palm towards me and affirm to the questions I ask of you. Once done, you should utter "So mote it be" and so will I. We should be bonded with that. So you ready to begin?"

Harry spread out his right palm let his magic spread out through his fingers. Salazar's voice stemmed out from his portrait in an oddly formal tone.

"Do you Harrison Slytherin, promise to accept my teachings with complete dedication?"

"I do." Harry replied.

"And do you accept my protections and commandments with full faith and acceptance till I release you from this oath?"

"I do."

"And do you swear to carry my legacy and teachings with honor befitting them and pass them to an apprentice of your own choosing at a later date?"

"I do."

"Then I Salazar Slytherin, thirty first master of the forbidden arte and Grand-mage of the Rune Masters Guild, accept you as my apprentice. So have I sworn, so mote it be."

"So mote it be." Harry finished.

The magic of the Chamber stirred and Harry could almost feel the oath take form into reality. He could even feel a magical compulsion acting on him, trying to make him more submissive to the will of his mentor.

"Till I release you from the bond my apprentice, you shall follow the exact same way as I dictate. Do you understand? "

" yes... Master. " Harry wondered why he addressed Salazar as his master. Perhaps it was the bond. He filed it away for later.

* * *

"So let's begin with the hated orders of prohibiting you from committing certain acts of stupidity then..." Salazar smirked.

"First, you shall not tend to learn or practice any rituals until you are a sufficiently accomplished third-level Occlumens. "

Harry nodded.

" Secondly, you shall only focus on the arts you learn from your mentors at school and what I teach you. And lastly, you shall stay away from this singular tome till I say otherwise." He finished, pointing at a rather old, tattered tome.

Harry looked over the name of the tome.

 _ **"**_ _ **arcana de... artibus exhibito"**_ Harry read, his mind suddenly thankful for having learnt the Latin and Welsh Languages under Salazar's guidance.

 _"_ _Secrets of the Darkest Arts?"_ he asked.

 _"_ Yes. One of the few remaining tomes of the lost magicks of the Arcana... although you need to have an irrational level of hatred in your mind to fully utilize most of the rituals offered in this tome. I have much better, safer and efficient ways of making you better, than following this ... atrocity! The only reason this is here is because it is the only link to my father."

"Your father... wrote this book?"

"Yes..." Salazar nodded.

After a moment of silence, he began, "So the ancient arts..."

* * *

Harry sat down to listen attentively.

" The ancient magical arts are basically a conglomeration of the different magical forms that existed during the period of Albion. They are mainly classified in three parts, the higher arts, the basal arts and the forbidden arte. "

On seeing that Harry had not yet posed a question, Salazar continued, " the basal arts constitute of battle magic, spell theory, healing rituals and transfiguration. The higher arts include mind magicks, rune mastery, esoteric magic, elemental magic and sorcery. "

" Isn't sorcery the same as wizardry? " Harry inquired.

" Only a fool would mistake the tomfoolery that wand wielders do, with true sorcery. I believe your headmaster is almost an adept at sorcery, and so is this upstart dark lord that tried to call himself my heir. Anyway, you shall understand the difference when we get to that. And then, we have the forbidden arte, a lore of Magick that leads to a world where _everything is true and yet nothing is real. "_

"Everything is true and yet nothing is real? Are we talking in metaphors master? "

"No, we are talking quite literally my heir, in fact nothing is more literal than the forbidden arte. Three intricate branches of magic, deadly if gone wrong, and the utter power... You feel like you are on the way to becoming a _God_. "

Harry coughed. " _God?_ "

"Yes. Three magicks, the sacrificial magic of rituals, the illusory magicks, and the reality distortion magicks. These arts were not out of practice due to unavailability of tomes of knowledge or the lack of practitioners but because these magicks consume the wielder entirely. These magicks may be an important tool to those who are prudent enough to stay within the boundaries, they lead to the instability of mind of those individuals who exploit them carelessly. They devour the sanity of any individual who is weak enough to fall to the temptations of abusing its power."

"Sacrificial magicks? As in blood sacrifice? "

"Not only, but yes. Sacrificial magic is further sub divisible into blood magic, soul magic and alchemy. Illusory magic on the other hand, is a class of its own. Mages who could acquire a certain level of mastery of the illusory magicks were coined as Illusionists, and let's just say, you do not want to be on the wrong side of an illusionist, even if you have an army with you. Illusory powers can distort your perceptions and senses, make you see a shield when there is none and make you feel you are dying when you ae as healthy as a hippogriff. And only those with _steady minds_ stand a chance at fighting an illusionist. Else I believe running for the hills is the only option." Salazar laughed.

"Those with _steady_ minds?" Harry urged.

"Masters of Occlumency, no less than a fourth level Occlumens at the least, if you want to defend yourself against basic illusory attacks."

"But why? I mean, they are just illusions correct? The attacks aren't real" Harry stopped awkwardly seeing Salazar's smirk, "Unless of course, the attacks are real." He gulped.

"You never know! What is real and what is not? How can we say? After all, _one man's reality is another man's illusion_."

Harry gulped, this was way more than what he had expected when he had asked for ancient magicks. He prodded on..." What was that last one? The one about reality distortion?"

"Ah! The most dangerous, the most beautiful, the most desirable and the most powerful, the reality-distortion magicks. Magicks whose mastery brings you to a level next to Godhood, if there ever was one. Magicks which can change reality... Magicks beyond the limits of the trans-temporal fields of space and time, and if I told you any further without you understanding even the basics behind illusions, you would run away in terror." Salazar uttered, with a loving caress in his voice.

 _Changing reality... Somehow he could see himself wanting to claim mastery of those forbidden magicks... Maybe he should... Food for thought later..._

"Changing reality? Isn't that the same thing as Illusory magicks?"

"Foolish boy, Illusions change _your_ perception of reality. Reality distortion magicks, on the contrary, change the _fabric of reality itself_. You could change the world just by wanting it. But the power behind them is so intoxicating, that most lose themselves in their self-created illusion. They create their own reality independent of the original, one in which they are most satisfied and content, and lose themselves in them for ages, until death gets hold of them. Think of it as being stuck in an immensely satisfying dream. The practitioners lose their touch on reality...They go insane."

" _It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live_." Harry muttered to himself.

Salazar's eyes widened at his words, and he couldn't stop himself from asking...

"Where have you heard that quote, descendant?"

"Huh? Oh I just remembered Dumbledore saying that to me when I was entranced by the mirror of Erised."

Salazar paled.

"The mirror... of... Erised.?" He inquired, not ready to believe what he was hearing.

"Yes." Harry deadpanned, now curious about Salazar's reaction. "Dumbledore had brought it into the school to set a trap for Voldemort."

Salazar did not understand whether he should laugh, cry, or just go insane. His eyes flashed in anger, the likes of which Harry had never seen before.

"Why? ... What's the matter?" He asked slowly.

"Do you know what the Mirror of Erised is actually, Harry?"

"yes. It shows our deepest desires. I remember seeing ..." He stopped abruptly, remembering Salazar's rule of never giving more information than required or asked for.

"And how many times have you faced the mirror?" Salazar asked, slowly.

Harry took a moment to reminisce.

"At first, it was like a week or something before I met Dumbledore. I used to go there after curfew. It showed me...my parents. I had never seen their pictures, and here they were, smiling at me. I could see myself in them, felt myself happy and content. I used to stay there for hours, until Dumbledore showed up and explained me what it did to our minds. After that... I again saw the mirror when I went down to face Voldemort. The Philosopher's stone was hidden inside the mirror, and somehow the stone was inside my pocket when I looked into the mirror. Dumbledore told me... it was one of his... most brilliant ideas." Harry finished.

 _He survived multiple altercations with the mirror and yet his grasp on reality is strong as ever... who the hell is this boy? And what is that dumb Headmaster doing with the stone and the mirror?_

"Do you know what the Philosopher's stone is, Harry?" Salazar asked.

"Yes, it transmutes other substances into gold. It also produces an elixir which makes a person immortal."

"True. But that's not all. And hear this from a mage that studied his master's stone in detail for more than a decade, whatever you know about that stone is nothing."

Realization dawned on Harry. "Your master?" he asked, slowly.

"Yes, Harry. I believe I never mentioned, the stone was created by my first master, the legendary Nicholas Flamel."

Harry stared at the portrait blankly.

* * *

Hermione snuck into her room with an armful of notes that she pilfered from the research she did over the 'Secrets of the Darkest Arts' book. Considering the fact that there was so much stuff on her table, she doubted very much that a few more papers would draw attention. They appeared to be of interest, detailing powerful magic that could be used to influence minds and harm enemies. While Harry was more powerful than her now, Hermione refused to be denied. She would reclaim her title as the smartest person of her generation along with reclaiming Harry. If she had to learn a little dark magic, then it was for Harry's own good. She refused to believe how he could have been happy with Daphne Greengrass of all people, when Harry could have had her. In Hermione's mind, Harry was miserable but he did not know it but she would correct the problem sooner or later.

She flipped open a page that saw a very graphic depiction of an extremely powerful curse. A smile appeared on Hermione's face, when she visualized herself performing that particular spell on Daphne. Harry would not even look at her when she was mangled to that extent or any other boy for that matter. It would take some practice to be able to pull it off, but Hermione had patience. Once she got Daphne alone, then she would make that treacherous bitch pay.

* * *

"Nicholas Flamel?" Harry gasped, audibly. "Nicholas Flamel was... your... master?"

"Yes, of course." Salazar grinned at Harry's gob smacked expression. "I was one of the very rare lucky mages to apprentice under Flamel's guidance. He personally taught me of the versatility of Rituals and trans-temporal magicks of the Arcana, and a little of Reality distortions. Nicholas Flamel, the master Alchemist and Illusionist of our times, had already acquired a ripe age of 300 by then. Of course, that was before he was able to break the innate laws of transmutation to create the sacred Sorcerer's stone."

 _But I thought Flamel was six hundred years old._ Harry thought. It was not every day one heard that there was a man, a living breathing man, who had been in existence before the age of the founders. It was a numbing feeling.

"Aunt Perenelle was a Veela, and a dear. She was the nicest person I ever knew, but more headstrong than Godric at his arrogant best. She was a master at Ritual magicks and Mind Magicks. In fact, it was her intermediation that helped Nicholas create the stone and come out alive."

"Why? What had happened?"

"You have to understand when it comes to trans-temporal magical fields, there are infinite number of outcomes for a problem. One needs to focus his magic on achieving his single-most desire and hope that he should be able to able to break through the illusory barriers without losing his mind in the process. Many have been rendered insane, just by attempting to distort reality. I would exchange facing hordes of Dark Lords any day than attempting Reality distortion. When Nicholas was about to break out of the illusory barriers, something sinister took hold of him. A string of magic, an emotion, an impossibility which wanted to latch onto him and enter into the realms of the mortal realms."

"An _impossibility_?" Harry asked.

"Yes. An impossibility. A free emotion, one which had its own existence, and with a power enough to distort the reality of anyone under its clutches by manipulating their emotions, and thus their reality."

Recognition flashed through Harry as Salazar continued, "It was only due to Aunt Perenelle's efforts that she could force that... thing into a random mirror she had hastily transmuted."

"The mirror of Erised..." Harry finished.

"Yes. The mirror does not just show you your deepest desire, it enforces the idea upon your mind that your desire is unattainable in all ways except one..."

"To submit oneself to the reality presented by the mirror."

"Correct." Salazar replied, proud of the intuitive capabilities of his apprentice.

"The stone ... it was kept inside the mirror... for almost four months."

"That dumb fool of a Headmaster." Salazar groaned, muttering another stream of swear words in Parseltongue.

"We need to get back the mirror of Erised, and store it here, in the chamber. I cannot even fathom the applications of placing a magical artifact of immense power, that too, the Sorcerer's stone into that mirror. We shall have to get it back, and study it. And remember, you need to become an adept at mind magicks before trying out anything else."

Harry nodded.

 _My first step towards being an Illusionist..._

* * *

 **### So Harry is Salazar's apprentice! How did you like the mysterious intro to the forbidden magicks?** **Reviews, reviews, everyone!**


	21. ROTD 21 : Training for the Tournament

**### Okay an Author's note real quick!** **##As I have told numerous times before, this is an AU story, so please do not get the idea that the characters shall behave normally. All characters will have little to much changes in their behavior, personality or even allegiance. This is an AU and should be treated as such.** **##Next, no Harry is not practicing dark arts, at least not yet. It was Hermione's thoughts about the dark rituals that manifested the dark arts book. Read chapter 20 for further clarification.** **## This story is going to be a part of a trilogy called "the wizarding chronicles." This is merely the first book, and given their ages, I hardly think there will be any romance in this part of the story. The story shall go more and more AU with the exceptions of certain events; the Triwizard for instance.** **##Thanks for reading, and please enjoy the story!**

* * *

While Harry was training every single day at the Chamber after classes, and then some more with the time turner, which he used effectively to practice and experiment with the new knowledge he acquired every day in the Room of Requirement, Filius Flitwick was planning something which he hadn't done in the last two decades. The master duelist and Charms Master was planning to take Harry under his wing and get him some experience in the dueling circuit as his protégé. He had heard nothing but ravings of pride coming from Minerva when it came to the capabilities of the young Potter, who he was now sure had been hiding his intellect for the first two years. Even Severus had calmed down from insulting Harry now and then. Filius had observed how Harry had grown increasingly bored in classes, and the only time he was showing interest was in his special classes. He had started teaching him the art of forming spell chains, a technique that the most accomplished duelists shared, including Filius. The boy had taken to the technique like fish to water. When he had discussed with Minerva about introducing Harry to spell chaining, he was having a few doubts. Those very doubts flushed down the drain on his first session with Harry on spell chaining.

"So today Mr. Potter, we are going to begin learning one of the most fundamental techniques required by a duelist." He waved his wand to the board and the words appeared.

"Spell chains"

"What does this technique do Professor?" Harry asked.

"In essence, it is an art of linking one spell with another. In the basics, we shall talk of those charms which have similar wand movements. Tell me Mr. Potter, what is the motion for a stunning spell?"

"An anticlockwise swing with a downward flick." Harry replied automatically.

"Good." Filius said, pleased at his answer, "Now tell me, what spell begins with a downward flick?"

"The _Incarcerous_ charm." Realizing what it meant, he gushed, "So professor, if I continue the motion for both spells, one following where the other left off, then-"

"Your opponent is stunned and bound at the same time. Yes." Flitwick answered, smiling.

"Awesome!" Harry's face lit up.

* * *

What had followed for the next few sessions were an extensive research on pre-defined spell chains and mastering them to the extent that Harry could, after a month of diligent practice, subconsciously conduct a spell chain from its starting spell. The chains had been deeply ingrained in him, and it was time for him to progress towards more difficult topics.

"Mr. Potter, I have an offer for you." Filius intoned one day, during one of the sessions.

"Sure professor." Harry replied, now interested in what Flitwick had to say.

"As you know I am an accomplished dueling champion it has been quite some time since I was on the dueling circuit. I had submerged myself into the world of teaching. But now after these sessions, I feel I should be back to the circuit" he took a breath, "not as a duelist, but rather to sponsor someone else. You." He looked up at Harry in the eye. "as my Protégé."

Harry stared blankly for a moment.

"I will... I'm glad professor. Thanks for your confidence."

"Well, now that the deal is on, I shall ask the Headmaster for your exemption from your everyday classes." He smirked at Harry's brightly lit face at hearing about the exemption.

"However, you shall attend your Potions classes and your electives. You will perhaps be able to give up History of magic class completely for self-study, and your classes with me and Minerva shall continue. The rest of the time, you may practice on your own."

It appeared that for Harry, Christmas had come early. Salazar would be pleased for sure, he thought. Now, he had more time to learn from his ancestor. And more practice time in the Room of Requirement. Salazar would be unbearable.

Joy.

"How does one enter the dueling circuit Professor?"

"An international dueling tournament happens every two years Harry, normally held in the months July to September. This year, the venue is France. I recall your father once said that your family had a holiday villa in Paris. If you do not object, I and you could travel there and you could participate in the tournament. Although I shall have to first and foremost, I shall have to apply your name for the tournament. By your leave..."

On Harry's nod, Filius darted away.

* * *

"Now raise your Occlumency shields and spread your palm out and touch the mirror. You shall feel an intrusion into your mind. Your job is to prevent the intrusion, as well as analyze the different modes by which the intrusion is made. Preventing the intrusion will help you strengthen your Occlumency shields, while analysis of the intrusion modes is something that will enable you to perfect your own Legilimency attack style."

Harry was back in the Chamber, learning from Salazar as his formal apprentice. While they were at that, Salazar was the strict and merciless tutor and Harry was his faithful follower and student. It had been almost a month since he had sworn in an apprenticeship to his great ancestor, and things had changed a lot since then. Salazar had him get versatile in Latin and Welsh. Harry winced internally as he remembered the two weeks in which Salazar had only talked to him in those two languages, and Harry was not allowed to write anything down. He had to keep everything in his memory as he studied. At times he wished for some appreciation but got only sweat, criticism and sarcastic comments. And Harry would not have it any other way. Now that it was almost a month, he was more confident in his abilities. He could speak in Welsh and Latin as fluently as English, and was on his way to gain some versatility in French (Salazar had added that when Harry had told him about the tournament being in France. He didn't want the French to have an advantage by casting spells in a language Harry didn't know.) Now though, Harry prided himself in his knowledge of high level spell casting and basic battle magic, few esoteric spells, the art of spell-chaining, and battle-transfiguration. Minerva had totally changed course when she had heard of his participating in the tournament. Since then, they had begun transfiguration mock-battles, in which Harry wasn't allowed to use any defensive or offensive spell or charm of any kind. His only weapon was to transfigure anything in the field into a usable weapon and fire them at his transfiguration teacher, who seemed to take a little more than acceptable fun in thrashing him down every day and then again.

Sometimes, Albus Dumbledore himself would call him up to his office and talk about his practices. He would share some of his knowledge of battle-transfiguration (being an accomplished master in that field himself). He would also test Harry's warding and magic-sensing skills. Sometimes, he would even provide Harry with some books from his own personal library.

Salazar had Harry memorize and practice entire rune scrolls. Harry had memorized the Elder Futhark and now new how to create his own personalized runic circles and multi-dimensional rune matrices. He now knew how to apply the arithmantic equations to his spells and use them to derive alternate versions of standard known spells. He had begun working on a combination of body-bind and stunning spell, that should be more resistive to the _ennervate_ charm. Salazar had suggested that he should look into the arithmantic equations of the _Exturbo_ spell, which was a forerunner of the modern stunning spell, and was likely more resistive to enervate. His spell casting was now superlative, and no longer was his behavior reeking of Gryffindor recklessness, according to Salazar.

Salazar had used the Mirror of Possibilities to teach Harry the arts of Occlumency and Legilimency. According to him, the act of breaking into some one's mind space was sinister and frowned upon. So he had his students learn the arts using the Mirror which could send magical pulses similar to Legilimency attacks and have the students defend their minds. Harry had come a long way from blindly crying out in pain on being attacked, to holding back the mirror's attacks for over a minute. So far, the attacks had been on one single front. But now as he was a budding third level Occlumens, the attacks became two-pointed. What was previously a hammer barging into his shields, suddenly became two blunt daggers trying to pierce into his mindscape. Needless to say, the sessions left him on the throes of painful headaches. And yet to Salazar's astonishment and pride, Harry would be back the next day.

* * *

"I notice you spend a lot of time furnishing wand movements still. Your control over your magic is now superlative, so you must be more efficient now. Do not use unnecessary movements anymore. Try to accomplish with a single flick what would have been a series of fancy strokes and swishes. You have become an adept at mastering your anger and emotions. Focus. Now try that Elemental fireball again."

"But I have been focusing master!" Harry almost winced at Salazar's narrowed eyes. His concentration broke and the fireball he was conjuring, exploded, blasting him away by five feet.

"Your focus, needs more focus." Salazar remarked, hiding a shallow grin.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to bring forth the elemental fie bubbling inside him. He spread his hands out, palms facing outward, and suddenly brought them together in front of his chest, compressing his magic at the middle of the zone. A glowing sphere of magic manifested from nowhere and transformed into a glowing ball of flames. He could feel the energy trying to escape out of his containment sphere and focused on keeping it contained. Slowly, he felt the magic get stabilized and slowly, with extreme precaution, started to remove his left palm, while centering the sphere with his right palm alone. When he was confident he had done it right, he let his breath go.

"I have done it, master!" Harry told Salazar happily.

"Well done apprentice. You have finally acquired a level of control over your elemental ability. Now fetch that fancy sword of yours."

Harry rolled his eyes at that comment. Salazar had never let it go that Harry could claim Gryffindor's sword while he was his heir. It wasn't that claiming the sword made him the heir to Gryffindor. It simply meant that the inherent magicks in the sword found him and his valor compatible enough. So, it responded to his call until another proper heir came up to claim it.

Harry flicked his arm up and felt the sword magically manifest itself in his palm. Muttering some swear words in Parseltongue, Salazar continued, "Now bathe your sword in your elemental fire. Goblin-made silver cannot be destroyed. It only gets strengthened by time, imbibing what strengthens it. Merging your elemental flames with your sword could create a powerful weapon for you to control, and extremely handy if you ever lose your wand in a fight."

Harry focused on his elemental powers and let them flow into the sword. Initially he felt a resistance but he mentally pleaded the inherent magick of the sword to do his bidding, and received a strange tingle of acknowledgment in return. The sword was now bathed in elemental fire.

"Strike down on the scales of the basilisk."

Harry took a strike at one of the left-over scales of the basilisk, and to his surprise, the fiery sword cut through it like knife on butter.

"Amazing!" he uttered, in awe.

"Yes, amazing! You have got yourself a remarkably useful weapon, even if you had to use that atrocious child of a wizard's sword."

 _Somethings really never change!_ Harry thought.

* * *

Ron Weasley was having a bad day. He had melted his cauldron in Potions class and Snape had punished him with two weeks of detention, scrubbing the floor of the Potions classroom after classes. The year was turning out to be a bad one for Ron. First Harry had to start behaving like bloody Malfoy causing the first dent in their friendship. Then, he just had to get his elective classes changed from Divination and Creatures to Runes and Arithmancy. It was completely mental. Who in the right mind would want extra stuff to study? Divination was an easy grade, and it did provide them ample time to take a nap most of the days. Creatures were cool too, especially the one in which that hippogriff had almost torn Malfoy's arm off. Too bad Hagrid had somehow intervened and Malfoy had come out of the entire thing with a light scratch and a few ducked points from Slytherin. And he didn't even want to think of Harry at all, at the moment. That traitor of a friend, who had deserted him for that Slytherin slag Greengrass, and now spent most of the time loitering with Slytherins of all people! Harry was now rarely even seen in the Gryffindor dormitory at all. He never played chess with Ron anymore. Bloody Potter! Always getting the best in everything! Potter had money, loads of it in Gringotts, he had fancy robes, and he had those pretty HufflePuff girls following him. Even Greengrass was enchanting on her own, for a slimy slytherin that is. Potter had suddenly become the favorite of the professors, even Snape didn't insult him much. _Perhaps because he was hanging with the Slytherin slut!_ And he had forgotten about Ron! Ron Weasley, his first friend, his best mate. Even Hermione agreed with him. Harry...Potter was perhaps cheating in his classes to get better marks. And since the last few days, Potter had stopped attending most of the classes altogether. He was always going to McGonagall and Flitwick, or vanishing suddenly off to nowhere for long periods. It was maddening. He continued to boil as he mentally ranted, "Why does Potter get all the glory and fame. It's not as if he even deserves it. I am from a respectable Pureblood family and I'm stuck playing second fiddle to the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. Why doesn't everyone see the truth when it's so obvious that Harry Potter is an attention seeking prat?"

As he was mentally ranting about the injustice of things, Ron did not hear Draco Malfoy walk in, until the Slytherin spoke, "So Weasley, since you've finally seen the truth about Potter, perhaps you are open to discussing other opinions about our world."

"What do you mean Malfoy?" Ron glared.

"I come in peace." Malfoy said, holding up his hands in surrender. Things have changed Weas... Ronald. And I believe that we should forget our own brawl and start afresh. Potter had refused it two years ago and now I offer it to you." Draco offered his hand, "Draco Lucius Malfoy. I once said to Potter that some wizarding families are much better than others are. I think I should have been talking to you, instead of him."

Ron hesitated.

"Don't worry about the scrubbing," he snapped his fingers and Crabbe and Goyle sauntered in, half escorting, half herding the first and second year students from Slytherin, "They'll take care of your detention well enough."

Intrigued, Ron followed Draco out of the trophy room, but found himself hesitant to take that first step in to the Slytherin Common Room. It was the snake pit. His hesitation brought the hint of smile to Draco's face, "You don't have to worry Ronald," he said, "Though I laud your caution considering out past." Draco reached in to his pocket and pulled his wand and to Ron's surprise handed in to Ron, "Consider this, a token of good faith. I give you my word that you will come to no harm unless you strike first."

He then opened the Common room door and looked back at Ron. "Walk away, but I can help you," said Draco quietly, "You and Potter, three years of friendship and he chucks it all away. Revenge. Money. Power. Perhaps even fame. I can do a lot…"

Ron blankly stared at him, thought his options. He looked at Malfoy in the eye, his sour expression changing into a smirk, returned Draco's wand back to him. Draco nodded once, approvingly and led the way in to the heart of Slytherin House. Once there, the two of them sat down and Ron listened, while Draco simply talked. It began as more of a lecture but quickly became more of lively debate. Ron slowly began to realize that what Draco talked about when he said that some wizarding families were better than others were and not entirely because of money, fame, or influence. His own family had fallen so far, so fast; he found that he could believe that the Pureblood way of thinking was the correct way.

An hour later, Ron thanked Draco for enlightening him, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower with a lot to think about. Draco was very pleased with how his day had turned out. With a little more persuasion, he would probably have a new recruit for the pureblood cause.

"Very soon Potter. Greengrass will be my bitch and you will rue the day you refused the offer of Draco Malfoy!" Draco muttered to himself in the empty room.

* * *

 **## review, review!**


	22. ROTD 22 : Love lost and found

Hermione Granger knocked on the oak door twice.

Enter," said Dumbledore and the door opened, with Hermione Granger walking inside, looking rather irritated. "Miss Granger, do have a seat please. How may I assist you?"

Hermione sat down right in front of Dumbledore, before sighing.

"Professor, I really hate to say this, but I'm really beginning to think that Harry is turning to the dark arts," answered Hermione and Dumbledore sighed, this was not the first time Hermione had come to him with this complaint. He nodded, urging the girl to continue.

"Well, today in Transfiguration and charms, Harry managed to complete the work before I did. Sure I managed to complete it shortly after but still it isn't like him, he's been besting me more and more this year."

"Miss Granger, I'm sure that Harry is just being a bit more proactive with his work since Mr. Weasley is not there to distract him with Chess or Quidditch," said Dumbledore calmly with a twinkle in his eye.

"No, you do not understand Headmaster. He was never this good. And doesn't even attend classes properly. Nor is he ever at the library researching any homework. He only attends Potions and Electives and rarely attends Charms or Transfiguration. I think he has turned to the Dark Arts to do his bidding. I am not sure what to do about that, Professor."

"I doubt Harry is turning to the dark arts, but on the slight chance that I may be mistaken, he might be to do it because yourself and young Ronald went against him and behaved repulsively with him all this term," theorized Dumbledore, causing Hermione to look scandalized at this might somehow be her fault.

"Well, Professor, it looks like Harry thinks he could live without us, because he's already replaced us, with that Greengrass girl," answered Hermione with a slight sense of bitterness. "After all I've done for Harry, he thinks he can betray me like that."

"Miss Granger, I am sorry, I feel your accusations are rather unfounded and I would advise distancing yourself from Harry and his friends for a few weeks, before apologizing to him and trying to mend your friendship," answered Dumbledore, "Thank you. You may leave."

Hermione's face crunched in annoyance.

"Thanks for listening, Professor."

She stood up and left.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass sat with Harry Potter and her friend group on the Slytherin Table. Yes, it was the Slytherin table. Her friend group, which initially limited itself to Blaise, Theo, and Tracy had now expanded a lot after Harry had entered her life. Now Susan, Hannah, Neville, Antony, and Su Li were all part of her new group. And not just that, her behavior and outward personality had also changed. At first it was subtle, but now everybody knew that the Ice Queen had a heart. A heart that held affection for only one emerald-eyed boy.

Harry Potter.

It had been quite a change since they first met at her house. And it could be said, things were never boring when it came to Harry Potter. First, he shocked them as the new Lord Slytherin. Then, he actually made a nice friendly relation with her dad. Her sister already had a crush on him, much to her annoyance. She was annoyed, yes, but she wasn't at all expecting him to allow her the freedom of living her own life after getting her stuck in a betrothal contract.

But he did. And not just in words, in actions too. He behaved just like an upstanding pureblood of his station should, and yet he was untouched by the prejudiced bigotry that pervaded the pureblood society. He even joined her dad in the neutral stance, allowing her dad to raise the neutral banner with the support of Slytherin House. It was a big thing. Her dad's face looked like he had de-aged several years for the entire week.

She remembered the Hogsmeade date they had. She remembered how they had fun, and then how they had to run for their lives from the Dementor attack. She remembered falling down. She remembered getting lost among the dreary shades of their cloaks, how she suddenly felt sad, helpless and about to die. She remembered the Dementor pouncing upon Harry, trying to feed upon his soul. She remembered shouting out his name in despair. She remembered how he suddenly got up and shot out crimson flames. Right out of his empty hands. She saw the flames burn the Dementors up, leaving behind only their tattered cloaks. She wondered, not for the first time, how powerful her betrothed really was.

Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived. The boy who survived the killing curse. The boy who defeated the worst dark lord in recent history. The boy who saved the school twice. The boy who killed a basilisk with a sword. The boy who could do wandless magic. The boy who now was the top student of the school. The boy she was betrothed to. The boy she could see herself live her life with.

She thought about the past several months. Harry had been enrolled into the international dueling tournament. He had hence been exempted from minor classes and now the only time she could meet him was during Potions. Of course, Snape being Snape, was extremely strict and an utter bastard when it came to Harry. At least Harry came over in the mornings during breakfast to meet her, else things would be difficult. She felt herself liking his company and preferring him to others. His increasingly busy schedule in a way, motivated Daphne to do better than what she already was. It was exactly how Harry had described her to be, _at least his equal._

"Daphne? Daphne?" Tracy's voice reached her ears.

She turned over to Tracy and shrugged.

"Look. Something is happening at the Gryffindor table."

Her interest peaked, she tried to listen amidst the noise, about what had happened.

* * *

Harry Potter was having his breakfast, this time over his own House table. He had promised Neville and Antony that they would have a boys-only time together and breakfast time sounded as good as any. Besides, most of the time he was with Daphne got spent in talking to her, and only her. Anyways, the time for nostalgia was later and Neville was talking.

"So Harry as we were saying-"

"Harry! Can I speak to you for a moment?"

Harry glanced behind to see who it was. It was Hermione. He was not yet sure he had forgiven her for her behavior and her lack of respect for his privacy but right now, she was asking properly and he didn't want to create a scene. He decided to give it a try.

"Yes Hermione!"

Hermione came up to him, touching his arm, trying to give what Harry thought would be a sultry smile. She shook her head, her bushy brown hair shifting from her shoulders to her back, exposing her neck ever so slightly. Harry smelt her perfume, and his danger-warning signals rose rapidly. Something was wrong!

"What... what do you want to talk about ... Hermione?" he almost slurred.

"Harry, mate!" Neville called, but Harry didn't reply.

"I want you to forgive me and come back to me Harry!" Hermione replied back, in what sounded to Harry as an incredibly attractive voice.

His Occlumency shields began to buckle, and he did the only thing he could do.

He drove into her mind.

* * *

"Harry, come with me. Come on!" Hermione cooed.

"Sure, just tell me one thing before that..." Harry replied back, slowly regaining his former tone.

"yes?"

"Well for starters, you could say why you used a love potion against me."

Hermione paused.

Blink.

Another pause.

There was pandemonium. Whispers about "love potions", "Hermione" and "Harry Potter" spread among the House tables like wildfire. McGonagall and Flitwick arrived immediately to control the situation.

"Mr. Potter, what is going on?" Minerva asked, tensed.

"Hermione tried to use a love potion on Harry, professor."

"WHAT?"

It was the voice of no one but Daphne Greengrass. Her icy blue eyes seemed to burn with an anger Neville had never seen before. It was at that moment he understood why the lithe third year girl was feared by most of the senior boys. Daphne Greengrass had left, and the Ice Queen had taken her place.

"That... insolent... Bit- girl tried to give my betrothed a love potion?"

"betrothed?" The whispers started.

"Miss Greengrass, please control yourself. Perhaps you could take Mr. Potter to Madam Pomfrey and see if he needs any medication."

"Sure. Professor" Daphne nodded, all the while planning her revenge against that despicable muggleborn girl.

"Why did you do this Hermione?" Harry asked solemnly.

"Harry...I... Harry is lying Professor. I didn't do any such thing."

Filius waved his wand and a few drops condensed from her perfume and rose towards him. He hastily conjured a vial and dropped the liquid in it. Performing a couple of spells, he nodded.

"Harry is correct Minerva. It is a love potion. Amortentia to be precise."

Amidst another blast of whispers about 'Amortentia', 'Granger', 'Betrothed' and 'Potter', Hermione was taken away to the Headmaster's office while Daphne took Harry to the hospital wing.

* * *

Hermione sat in Dumbledore's office., scared but defiant. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape stood there, awaiting the results of Snape's confirmation.

"Well blow me in the head with a feather," Snape commented snidely," the Gryffindor know-it-all isn't so goody-goody." He turned towards the Headmaster," it is Amortentia, as Mr. Potter accused, I am more curious as to why Mr. Potter managed to be immune to the effects".

"That is not so important at the moment, Severus." Dumbledore began, his eyes stern, the warm twinkling now absent." Why did you do it Miss Granger?"

"Harry needs me!" shouted Hermione finding her voice.

"I do not care anymore about your personal angst Miss Granger, but it is very clear that it's not Mr. Potter who needs you, but rather the opposite. Mr. Potter, I believe hid his intellect so that you get score the highest. However, he seems to have gained a purpose this year, hence his due diligence and intellect is showing itself."

"Daphne doesn't love Harry. I do. We have been destined to be together since the first year. But Harry is dense. He doesn't understand what love is. I need to show him."

"By putting him under a love potion?" McGonagall interrupted, her lips thinning in anger.

"He would learn to manage. He always does." Hermione argued defiantly.

Miss Granger," Dumbledore called out loudly," using a love potion on a student is a punishable offence. You are lucky that Harry was unaffected, else using the potion on the scion of a Ancient and Noble House would have landed you in Azkaban right now!"

Hermione's face scrunched in fear.

"However, considering everything, you are not going to be expelled. You will instead be serving detention with Professor Flitwick till the end of term. You will also publicly apologize for your actions to Mr. Potter. I know detentions do not mean much to you. So I have come up with something that does. You are to use the library only for homework purposes and that too, up to an hour before curfew. That-" he stopped Hermione by signaling with his palm," is my final and irrevocable decision."

"No professor. You can't do that. I won't be able to— "

"Good night Miss Granger. Minerva?"

Minerva McGonagall immediately understood what he meant. She took Hermione out of his office and asked sternly.

"Where is the time turner, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's face was in tears. She took one last glance at the time turner and returned it back to the Professor.

"I believe I was correct when I refused to provide you with it, the first time." Putting the device in her pocket, she looked down at her, "return to your dormitory, immediately."

Hermione nodded one last time, still in tears, before she walked down the stairs. Then, reaching the empty corridor, she wept loudly and ran away.

* * *

The little young girl watched as the bushy know-it-all fell down weeping. She watched as she wept out about the unfairness of it all. Things were still going to plan. Smirking, she tiptoed near her, and whispered silently...

 _Confundo..._

* * *

 **###reviews, reviews! people!**


	23. ROTD 23 : Conspiracies and Training

By lunch time, everyone knew about Hermione Granger and her attempts to ensnare Harry using a love potion. She had not yet been directly cursed or anything, but if the glares of other girls (the majority of them crushing on the new and improved Boy-who-lived) were of any indication, Hermione Granger had just made her life at Hogwarts quite difficult, well, more difficult than what it already was, no thanks to her all-knowing behavior. It was only because she was Harry's friend that people tended to not do anything to her for her behavior (well except for Malfoy but that was an entirely different matter) but ever since Harry had moved on, she had lost her protective insurance. And she was still oblivious about all of it.

After her sort-of-altercation with the Headmaster and other professors, she had run back to her dorm room, crying all the way. Since most of the students were still in the Great Hall, no one obstructed her path. Well, the one exception being a little girl who was smirking at how successful her plan was. Said girl was watching the now-openly-weeping muggleborn with great amusement. She wondered if the muggleborn had started practicing spells from the tome she had... read from the Room of Requirement. She watched as Hermione ran down the corridor. She silently cast an _aguamenti_ charm to make the floor slippery. The muggleborn slipped and went sprawling over onto the floor. Taking her chance, she creeped slowly behind her and whispered... _Confundo._

The Confounding charm. Every chaos-minded individual had to just love them. The spell, while being simple to cast and ridiculously easy to throw off, was the simplest version of a mind-altering charm. Nothing so powerful as an _Obliviate_ or worse, an _Imperio,_ the charm was good only when applied to people in severe mental distress. It, in a kind of way, _twisted_ the thought process of the victim, and being such, induced chaotic suggestions in the mind of the victim. While any decent Occlumens could throw off such a charm without batting an eyelid, that was not the case this time. Hermione Granger was many things, but an Occlumens, she was not. If anything, her rather profoundly well-categorized mind was a treat for any budding Legilimens, or in this case, the _Confundo_ spell. Poor girl couldn't even see the spell coming as it hit her with a feather touch, her mind now in a slightly greater turmoil than it previously was.

The little girl stood and watched her going. Flicking her wand out, she walked out towards the owlery. Reaching a rather tiny owl that came hooting at the sight of her, she tied a small letter to its leg and set it free. "Go to Pettigrew."

She smirked _._

 _The game was afoot._

* * *

"Professor?"

Filius Flitwick had been busy, checking the assignments from the NEWT students, when he heard a familiar voice calling him. Looking up, he saw Harry Potter standing at the door of his office.

"Ah, Harry! Come in, come in! I just have a couple of more assignments to check and then we can begin our session."

Harry silently walked into the office, his mind already troubled at the happenings of the morning. He had not seen Hermione after breakfast. In fact, no one had seen her after that; well no one he asked, that is. His mind was still reeling over the fact that Hermione of all people, tried to ensnare him with a love potion. The same Hermione whom he thought of as his little sister. It brought a sour taste to his mouth. He idly wondered why Ron had not created a lovely obscene quarrel with Hermione by then. Filing his thoughts for later, he looked at Flitwick, about to ask whatever was in his mind.

"I'm sure you are wondering what happened after Miss Granger's... unpleasant behavior in the morning." Flitwick remarked, looking at Harry sagely, something that eerily reminded him of Dumbledore. "She was taken to the Headmaster's office, wherein she confessed to using it because... and here I quote her words... _'_ _We have been destined to be together since the first year. But Harry is dense. He doesn't understand what love is. I need to show him'."_

Harry stood there, flummoxed at what Flitwick was telling him. Suddenly, a flash of insight came to him.

"Professor, are you sure Hermione wasn't acting under the effects of any potion or curse?"

"I wish that would be the case Harry. But no, she was free of curses or potions. But one thing is certain, she has been under severe mental distress. And also, there is one other thing is of considerable importance in this matter."

"What is that Professor?" Harry prodded.

"I should not be telling this to you Mr. Potter, but if I am, I need your complete silence over the matter." On Harry's nod, he continued, "Miss Granger is, as you know, an exemplary student. In fact, she has been consistently the highest scorer in the theory portions of all subjects since her first year. Her overall standing is second since the last two years if you count your entire batch."

"Who is the first? If you don't mind me asking, Professor."

"Flitwick chucked. "I am surprised that you off all people are asking me that question Harry. The student to have the overall first position since your first year. Your friend, and if the rumors are correct, your betrothed, Miss Daphne Greengrass."

"Daphne... holds the first rank?" Harry wondered aloud, "I... never knew. She has always been skilled... but..."

Flitwick laughed," Yes, Miss Greengrass is one prodigious witch indeed. If a bit on the sarcastic and silent type."

"As I was saying, at the start of the term, Miss Granger had approached Professor McGonagall and asked for a way for her to apply for all four of the elective subjects."

"I seem to remember she saying something similar to me once." Harry thought aloud.

"As you might know, the Divination and Arithmancy classes are held at the same time and hence, one cannot attend both classes at once, and yet as you know Miss Granger has been attending them, and that is not practically possible, except without the use of a-"

 _Time turner!_ Harry thought to himself.

"Time turner. It's a device that lets you go back a few hours in time."

Harry put on his most shocked look and asked," But professor, is that...well legal?"

"Well, Minerva's first reaction was to deny her openly. But after Miss Granger's consecutive attempts, she acquiesced to her request. It took her and Professor Dumbledore to call a couple of favors and pull a few strings. Showing Miss Granger's exemplary student record, the Department of Mysteries granted the request.."

 _The Department of Mysteries?_

"Miss Granger had to swear an Unbreakable Vow", he sharply looked up at Harry's reaction and smirked, " Oh good, so you do know what that is. Anyway, she had to swear that she would not use the device for anything else other than her classes, and that she would keep it a secret from everyone else. Personally, I regret that they assented to her request. Messing with time, is... not something one should be involved in... _Dangerous things happen to wizards who mess with time... Not to forget the implications it does to the mind..._ Using the time turner a lot brings certain changes to your magical chronology..."

"Magical Chronology?" Harry asked. This was something new.

"Every witch or wizard emits a certain magical signature when using magic. That is how apparition or curses are traced to their respective performers. It is also the foundation on which the _Priori Incantatem effect_ occurs. Because Miss Granger had been using it a lot, every day, there were several magical signatures, all belonging to Miss Granger, but having different chronological values, pervading in the castle at the same time. This has a common side-effect of making said practitioner distressed and snappish...at the least. I hope you have been noticing the changes in Miss Granger's attitude recently."

"Yes Professor!" Harry replied, inwardly panicking, about his usage of the time-turner.

 _I need to find a way to escape the chronological effects..._

He used his Occlumency to control his emotions and put on a worried face.  
"So what's going to happen to Hermione? Will she be-"

"She won't be expelled if that's what you are worried about. However, her attack on the scion of an Ancient and Noble family cannot go unnoticed. She shall have detention for the rest of the term and the Headmaster was a bit... creative with his punishment." He almost grinned, "he limited her library time to an hour before curfew."

"Could have asked her to kill herself... she would have gladly taken that choice." Harry murmured.

"So let's return to our practice session, shall we Harry?"

"Sure professor, what are we going to do today?"

"Today we are going to begin the offensive phase of dueling. Now that you are done with mastering the techniques of spell chains, it's time we increase your spell count on the offensive side. I don't believe we have included any offensive spells in our sessions apart from the standard OWL-level ones. Its time when change that situation."

 _Only except what Salazar has taught me so far!_

"Sure thing Professor! So how do we begin?"

With that began Harry's increment of his offensive spell repertoire. First began his practice of cutting and piercing spells which was swiftly followed by blasting and bludgeoning spells. While most of the spells were Auror-level, Harry had no problem performing them, making Flitwick wonder exactly how magically potent his protégé actually was.

"Yes, now try chaining the _Profligo_ and the _Cincido_ with the confringo and the _Exturbo_. "

Harry had tried using the _eboleo_ with the _malleo_ curses back to back to create a spell chain that would be quite an extravagant chain wildly useful in beating the shields of any opponent to dust. He figured that using some of the powerful curses that Salazar was drilling into him cold be dead useful in providing a finishing move for the duel. Flitwick also taught him that his idea that movement was the key to winning did not always hold true.

"I notice you seem to give greater priority to movement than dodging."

"Yes, professor!" Harry answered, "I try to dodge the spells away instead of using magic to defend myself using shields. My magic remains more conserved by that."

"True. But what about your physical capacity?"

 _Physical capacity?_

Looking at Harry's flustered face, Filius explained. "Yes. Physical Capacity. While dodging is good and everything, it also has the disadvantage of making you physically tired. What you should ai for, is the middle path."

"The middle path?"

"Yes. Don't move unless required. And even if you do, try to limit your movement to what is required technically. For instance, if someone throws a cutting curse at you, aimed at your head what should you do?"

"I will roll out and throw a curse back in return."

"Yes, but you could also simply step to a side, and let the curse move away harmlessly. You did not even have to shield in return. Simply shifting to a side lets you hold your ground standing and fire a curse back faster than rolling away."

Harry nodded, trying to grasp the new innovative ideas that his teacher was sharing with him.

"But Professor, I am not exactly that smooth in movement. It's one of the reasons I prefer to roll about."

"Hmm. You could do one thing I suppose. But I'm not really sure how it would be possible before the tournament."

"What is it, actually?"

"Have you heard of the fantastic muggle art known as Kendo?"

* * *

Hermione Granger was sitting down on the floor, alone in _that_ chamber where she had _found that_ book. Her eyes were blood red with weeping her heart out since the last couple of hours. Said book lay open on her lap, its pages sticking to each other, wet by Hermione's tears. The room had surprisingly changed into an old classroom. Weeping her heart out, Hermione wailed about her current situation.

 _Why can't anybody understand what is happening? The headmaster refuses to listen... The professors refuse to listen... Harry refuses to listen... Daphne has entranced Harry... Daphne stole Harry away from her... Daphne made her lose that Time-turner... Daphne caused Harry to break out of Hermione's charm... Harry needs to be saved... Harry needs to go back to his previous self...Harry needs her to explain things to him... Harry has always been dense...Harry has been using dark arts... I need to get my Harry back... I need to be better than Daphne... I need to defeat her... I need to destroy her... I will do_ _ **anything**_ _to get Harry back..._

 _Anything..._

Hermione _smiled_. She never noticed her tears being absorbed into the pages if the tome which magically dried itself with a sudden red blur.

* * *

"Kendo?"

"Yes. Have you heard of it, Harry?"

"Well my cousin Dudley used to go to a gym nearby, and now that you mention it, there used to be a martial arts class there. I will go and check it, though."

"that's better. I think Kendo will solve your problems of smooth movement."

"Thanks Professor."

Flitwick smiled. "Keep up your practice. We will meet again on Wednesday. Good night Harry."

"Good night Sir."

* * *

"Ah! Finally, the prodigal son returns! I had thought you would be away for a week or something considering how soundly you were trashed about by the Mirror." Salazar's voice boomed as Harry entered the Chamber.

"I performed my first bout of Legilimency."

"Really?" Salazar drawled. "Pray tell, who was your innocent victim!"

Harry told him the proceedings of the entire day. To say Salazar's expression changed a lot would be an understatement. His indignant swearing about Hermione, after Harry was done was quite colorful and consisted of a few choice words about the legality of her birth, her actual profession, breeding and what Harry should do the next time she tried to put her claws on him. It was quite funny actually, and Harry felt good within to see Salazar so indignant over his issues.

 _This is perhaps what feels to be a part of a family!_

"So shall we return to our training apprentice?" Salazar asked, his tone returning to that oddly formal one.

"yes." Harry sighed.

After what seemed to be four hours of grueling training over what comprised of mind arts and offensive battle magic, Salazar invited Harry to another theoretical discussion.

"Today we shall begin our path into rituals and memory analysis. You on the other hand, shall begin studying the Marshall-Weiss spell interpolation techniques independently on your own."

"Memory analysis?"

"Go into the Library. The north-west corner. You shall find a pensive there. Bring it out." Harry did so accordingly. "This pensive contains a lot of memories that I collected and stored, in order to teach my heirs, the fine art of swordsmanship."

"You were a swordsman?"

"Nah! I was pants at that. The memories are mine, watching Godric trying to explain to me the arts of holding and weaving magic through it."

"Gryffindor was a swordsman?"

"Of course, Godric was the one of the best battle-mages I have seen in my life time. Could wield his battle staff and his sword simultaneously. It was perhaps he only thing he was good at." Salazar finished with a good-natured pout.

 _No one would ever believe me if I told that the Salazar Slytherin could pout!_

"I really try hard, but cannot understand the nature of relationship between you and Godric Gryffindor." Harry commented, with a grin.

"Well, as good and spicy as brothers can be!" Salazar refuted back.

"Brothers?" Harry replied, in awe.

"Well, Blood brothers really. Our brotherhood was forged in the heat of battle. You try facing hordes of dark wizards and protect your school with someone, you are bound to have a deeper friendship." Salazar shot back.

"But then... what about the fact that you and he had a fight and you left the school?"

"Nonsense!" Salazar waved. "Me?" he pointed to himself, "Fight with Godric? What am I? Stupid. Godric could defeat me with one hand."

"You are Salazar Slytherin." Harry taunted.

"I was an Illusionist. Not a damned battle-mage. You want rituals and illusory attacks that destroy hordes of enemy lines? Want unbreakable wards? I am your man. But Godric? He would come and blast the ward scheme with one powerful _fulmen_ , and BOOM! No more wards!"

Harry fell down on the floor in a fit of laughter.

* * *

After all the laughter had subsided, Salazar had turned to finishing the story.

"It was that miserable discussion. Godric and Rowena wanted to open up the news of the existence of the wizarding world to the mundanes. Godric, being from a noble family with lots of mundane connections, felt it better to reveal our existence to the Queen. Helga was undecided and Rowena supported him. That foolish arse could not understand that no good would come by that. All I wanted was that Muggleborns should be snatched away after their magic began manifesting and bringing them into our world. We could erase the memories of their parents though. The Muggleborns would live among us, as a part of us. But I faced resistance. Yes, we almost came to blows, but sanity prevailed when Peverell and the others intermediated. Anyway, the decision was taken and the Queen was informed. There were lots of troubles due to that later on, but that's a story for another day."

Harry sat in wonder and thought about what Salazar had told him. The wizarding history that the people of magical Britain knew was an embellished version of what truly happened. Something he would set right. It was his duty as the _Lord_ of Slytherin.

 _I will set things right again!_

* * *

 **A bit of Author-Note time if you will! So, real quick!**

 **1\. This is an AU fanfic, and like I have stated quite a number of times previously, HP belongs to Rowling and I am simply playing in her sandbox. I do not own HP and make no money out of it. This is a FAN fiction and should be treated like one.**

 **2\. T** **he characters. Yes, the characters are canon but does that necessarily mean that their behavior has to be canon-ish? If that is true, then what is the meaning of having a FAN FICTION/ I personally fail to understand. For people who fail to grasp stuff if the characters behave differently than canon, try to think of this as some kind of Butterfly Effect if it helps. You know, the theory which says that the flapping of the wings of a butterfly could change the timeline and stuff. Want more information? Google it. Good.**

 **3\. No I am in no way or mode trying to justify the actions of Dumbledore. Or any other character. I believe that every person, even a cold blooded murderer, if you will, has some sort of self-justification behind his deeds. Does describing his self-justification mean supporting his deeds?**

 **Thought so. (although I am in no way comparing Dumbledore with a murderer. Just think of it as a well-placed analogy if you will)**

 **4\. For changes in the behavior of Ron, Hermione and others, I do have some words. First, Harry's behavior has some changes due to the influences of Salazar, Daphne and to some extent, the changes due to the cleansing ritual. I have, after all, not discussed the results of the ritual yet: P**

 **Next, Harry's changes should have some reaction from Ron (who is the most prejudiced character I have ever known) and Hermione. I refuse to believe that things would stay same after such changes. The rest just fill up on its own. Harry is no longer the brash Gryffindor, so it's obvious that Malfoy will now try something cunning to beat him down. Previously he was treated as an outsider, and now he is one of the exemplary students of the castle. Different situations, eh?**

 **Well, that's all for now. Sorry for the rant, but had to get it off me! Enjoy the story and review!**

 **~Arcturus Peverell.**


	24. ROTD 24 : Blades and Portkeys

Ron Weasley was in detention, sipping pumpkin juice with Draco Malfoy and associates in the Slytherin common room. Two random firsties were busy scrubbing the cauldrons at that very moment in the Potions classroom, serving the redhead's detention time, so that said redhead could have his personal tete-a-tete with Malfoy junior.

"So Ronald, what have you decided about our conversations?" Malfoy asking, sipping his juice.

"I have thought about it Malfoy...Draco, and I think that my family has it figured out all wrong. I am a pureblood, and I deserve money and fame. At least after what I have done to help Potter-"

"Exactly." Draco interrupted, "Look how Potter used your help and support and now he clearly has all the fame. He doesn't even look at you nowadays."

Ron nodded, his inner anger now clearly visible on his pink face.

"Hermione... I can't believe what she did. I think Potter has done something slimy there, so that he can get the first place. He knows that until Hermione is out, he will never be the top student."

"Ronald... Ronald... think about the situation. If we play our cards properly, we can use the mud... muggleborn to our cause."

Ron nodded. He had never been that close to Hermione anyway. It was only for Harry that they were friends. Hermione was always being a know-it-all at all times, she was plain irritating. Always running off to the library, it was damned irrational! Ron was better off without her.

Draco was right. He was a pureblood. A scion of a noble family. He deserved status, money and respect. He was done being Potter's sidekick. Potter had used him, abandoned and betrayed him. Potter would pay.

* * *

"Professor, I received your note..."

"Ah Harry, come in!" He introduced him to the person sitting on a chair in his office, "meet Ryan Bennett, an associate of mine."

Harry shook hands with this person, who looked a little odd at first glance. Dressed in a muggle suit, the man had sharp eyes with his hairs long and extended into a ponytail on his neck. He wondered who he was.

"Ryan here," Flitwick began, "is your new Kendo tutor."

Recognition flashed on his face, and Harry turned to Flitwick, "He will be staying at the Three Broomsticks, and will be available to you on weekends. You shall learn how to be more fluent in your movement."

"Thank you Professor." Turning to his newly appointed tutor, he asked, "Do you... perchance teach sword fighting?"

Ryan's eyes twitched in interest, "You wish to learn how to wield a sword?"

"Is there something I should know Harry?" Flitwick asked.

Harry held his arm up and thought hard, wishing for the sword and was glad to see it appearing in his palm.

"That ... that is..." Flitwick exclaimed.

"The sword of Gryffindor... I used it to kill the basilisk. I have found that I can call for it when in need. I read about Warmages who could wield magic through swords and thought it would be cool to learn the art."

"You my boy are a little well of surprises, my boy." Flitwick chuckled.

"I try." Harry drawled.

* * *

So began Harry's new schedule of sword training on weekends. He would use one of the passages of the Marauder's map to reach Hogsmeade. The twins had decided to give him the map, after all it was his legacy, although Harry had forced them to accept a rather generous help of two hundred galleons in return. His tutor would meet him at their selected venue- the Shrieking shack, after all nobody dared to enter the apparently haunted party. On some nights, Harry would go there and change into his dire wolf form, making himself a bit more comfortable with morphing, and also to regenerate the rumors surrounding the shack. Needless to say, their sword training continued uninterrupted.

Salazar also made him study the memories of Gryffindor wielding the sword, and the mechanism of wielding magic through the revered blade. Harry was sure that once he had mastered the art of wielding magic with the blade, it would serve him better in open war than his wand would. As for his wand, Salazar had sent him to Ollivander with a few heartstrings from the basilisk parts. He remembered the conversation very well.

 _"_ _Mr. Potter, I am surprised to see you here! Has your wand been serving you well?"_

 _"_ _Yes Mr. Ollivander, I uhm... wanted you to bring some changes in my wand."_

 _"_ _Mr. Potter, many a time I have been faced with people asking me to improve their wands, make them more powerful. But let me tell you before you make that request of me, there is no way to make your wand more powerful than it already is."_

 ** _Damn... Salazar was right again! It's a good thing he is a portrait and cannot take bets!_**

 _He silently took out the bag containing a vial containing the basilisk heartstrings and another vial containing basilisk blood. Placing them on the table, he stared at Ollivander silently._

 _"_ _Basilisk heartstring and blood! I am surprised Mr. Potter. I should ask you how you are alive but considering the sudden availability of basilisk parts in the alley a few months ago, I shall take a leap of faith to imagine that they are of the same basilisk of the mythical Chamber of Secrets, you are renowned for killing. But I am going to ask, are you sure Mr. Potter?"_

 _"_ _I am not sure what you mean sir."_

 _"_ _When a wizard kills a sentient magical creature, especially one with extreme magical potency, a bond is formed between the magic of the killer and the kill. I assume that is exactly why you have brought this heartstring and blood for me to incorporate it into your wand."_

 _Harry nodded slowly, "There is...one more thing... sir!"_

 _On Ollivander's nod, he looked around and cast a privacy charm and continued, "I recently underwent a cleansing ritual. My magical core went a complete reset and my magical potency has changed. My..." he gave him a look, "elemental core activated."_

 _Ollivander blanched for a moment, his surprise turning to shock and then to a pleased smile. "An elemental! How wonderful! I knew you would be special Mr. Potter, but this, is exemplary."_

 _Harry nodded._

 _"_ _I will need a vial of your blood Mr. Potter. Just a couple of drops would suffice. Do you... perchance, know how to control your elemental powers?"_

 _"_ _To some extent. Yes."_

 _"_ _Good! I want you to dive into your elemental core and try to flow it through your wand. Try not to restrict the flow. It shall be ... rather...interesting to watch."_

 _Harry did as he was told. He felt the flow of his magic flow through him. He felt a warm wave flow through his hand and into the wand. He saw the holly wood burning and disintegrating and became worried. "Sir..." he began._

 _"_ _Worry not. It's expected. Continue what you are doing. Do not stop."_

 _Harry nodded and continued. The holly wood disintegrated slowly and when it was over, all that was left was a shining, red feather, brimming with raw energy in his palm. He could feel the energy in tune with his magic._

 _"_ _is this-" he began._

 _"_ _The phoenix feather in your wand, yes."_

 _"_ _Now this is a part you cannot watch. You may wait here, of course, but it will take around an hour."_

 _"_ _I will wait, Sir."_

 ** _Good thing I brought my mom's journal with me!_**

 _After almost an hour and a half, Ollivander returned._

 _"_ _I am sorry for taking so long, but wand crafting is serious business. I cannot rush the process without hampering it."_

 _"_ _It was no issue Sir."_

 _"_ _Now, try this wand and give it a wave."_

 _Harry felt a sense of Deja-vu come to him, as he was reminded of his first visit when he had held his faithful holly wand for the first time. This wand was black, unlike his previous brown wand, and had a bone handle. There was a red line crisscrossing the shaft of the wand. Holding it up, he felt a wave of energy singing in tune with his magical core. Somehow he felt that this wand was more suited to him now._

 _"_ _Phoenix feather burning in your elemental fire, wet by the basilisk blood. A wonderful combination albeit explosive in nature. It was your blood that finally lent the combination a form of stability. The wood is Deathwood, a strange combination. Deathwood makes for very powerful, refined wands, ideal for battle-magic. Your holly wand was good for defensive spells, but this one, especially after combining the cores with the wood, is different. "_

 _"_ _What affinity does this wand have, sir?"_

 _"_ _None at all. Mr. Potter." Noticing his rather disappointed look, Ollivander continued," this wand excels at nothing and fails at nothing. It holds no affinities, yet rejects nothing. Think of it as a jack of all trades if you will."_

 _Harry glanced up in surprise at his use of the muggle expression._

 _"_ _This wand shall know, what you know. It shall learn what you learn, excel at what you excel and fail at what you fail. It is a derivative of your core, in a way. Master your magic and your wand shall have affinities for all streams of magic. Practice none and this will be the most useless wand ever created."_

 _It took a moment for Harry to understand everything Ollivander said. Nodding at him, he asked, "How much should I pay you sir?"_

 _"_ _Fifteen galleons, and I will throw in this basilisk hide holster for free."_

 _Accepting the deal, Harry nodded._

* * *

"So how is the new wand faring?"

"I feel no different master ", Harry replied back to his mentor, " though my magic seems more easy and fluid than before ".

"An obvious advantage of having a wand more tuned to your core. The fact that the wand core is derived from two powerful creatures helps too. How is your blade wielding coming along? " Salazar asked normally.

"The training is going great, but I do not understand the reason why you want me to channel more and more magic into the blade. Shouldn't I be using another blade to tune my magic with, rather than this one? "

"And pray tell, what deficiency there is in Godric's blade that you refuse it? " Salazar replied sarcastically.

"Deficiency? No that's not what I meant ." Harry replied back anxiously, "It's just that I will need to give this blade back to Neville when he rises as the Gryffindor heir. "

"And how did you arrive at such conclusion? " Salazar replied, his tone biting.

" well it's Godric's sword... " Harry began.

"It was Godric's sword, before it changed its allegiance to you. that sword in your hand, boy is no mortal blade. Like the legendary _Excalibur_ which was forged in dragon's breath, this sword was forged by your own elemental fire, a fire no less powerful than dragon's breath. It was Godric's when it came to your help, but it didn't remain Godric's, when you forged it again... That sword in a way, has been _reborn_ as yours. "

"Oh! " Harry said, stumped by the developments.

"So didn't I commit theft by taking away an ancient heirloom of the Gryffindor family?" Harry questioned, his pureblood etiquette studies rising to the surface of his mind.

"Well normally you would be accused of such, but this case is a bit... peculiar. That sword in your hand is made of Goblin-made silver, and integrated with foreign powerful magic it came with contact with over the centuries. That gives you get a magical artifact having some degree of sentience. Since a sentient thing gave you its allegiance, you are blameless about it. After all, all you did was request it to allow you to wield your magic through it. The sword could have rejected you but it didn't."

"Uhm... Great then! I will continue practicing. " Harry finished awkwardly.

"See that you do. "

* * *

It was time for the Christmas holidays. The students were packed and ready, to leave for home for the Christmas Holidays. It would be Harry's first Christmas after arriving at Hogwarts that he would be spending with family and well.. extended family. He had received a letter from Lord Greengrass inviting him to spend his Christmas holidays with his betrothed's family. He had also pointed that they needed to have a discussion regarding the winter solstice session of the Wizengamot. Harry was greatly anticipating the event. Sirius and Remus had been away in Thailand still, and Sirius' mind healing was going nicely, and they had asked the young Potter if he would be able to celebrate Boxing Day with his Godfather and honorary uncle. Harry was eager about it and gladly accepted.

It was his last day of training at Salazar's feet before he left for the Christmas holidays. Harry arrived earlier than usual to see Salazar looking a bit worried about something.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes? Oh yes, everything is fine. I am just tring to figure something out. So..." he clapped," last day of training before you leave I believe?"

"Yes. I will return almost after a month."

"Hmm... there was something I had planned for you, but now it is not plausible any more."

"What was it?" Harry inquired.

"A ritual. Your first ritual. To be conducted on the next full moon."

"But that's like twenty days away and I won't be here."

"yes."

"But how can I come in just like that? The gates won't allow me entrance during the holidays and I do not know how to apparate yet."

"If you are interested I have just the thing to aid you in your mission."

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course he would have. It was totally unlike Salazar to raise an issue unless he had a solution to it.

"Portkey creation. I know it takes a long time to learn how to apparate. However, creating a portkey is easy if you know what to do and have enough magical power to fuel the portkey. Considering that you are MY heir." Harry rolled his eyes at that comment, but let Salazar have his moment.

"Won't the wards stop a portkey from entering the school?"

"Well yes they would, but considering it was me that created the wards around the castle, there are certain advantages of being Me..."

Harry raised an eyebrow and waited.

Salazar sighed and answered. "You can portkey or apparate to and from this chamber if you share my blood. Only you. No one else."

"So you want me to portkey here on the next full moon and conduct the ritual."

"Are you dumb Harrison? That's exactly what I am saying."

"Right."

* * *

"Well, let's start with the Portkey...You point your wand at the item to be enchanted. You say 'Portus' while focusing on the exact location of where you want the portkey to take the traveler. It is the same process as apparating only you are using an item to move the person. Once you have the destination in your mind, you must select an activation method such as touch, timed, or number of occupants. The last thing you focus on is the return trip. Basically, you set another destination after all the rest. You must focus on the destination using either coordinates or specific landmarks. Everyone is a little different in how they direct their portkeys, but the principle is the same. The key is being exact and precise. If you stuff this up, the person will end up somewhere other than the one you want. Like inside a wall or in the middle of a lake or something..."

Harry's mind wandered if he could portkey Malfoy into the middle of the Lake. Images of Malfoy and the Giant Squib making _nice_ came to his mind. He shook his head and focused back on the tutoring.

"After you have chosen the exact location, you mentally focus on the activation type. You must keep the destination in your mind as well or it all falls apart. Finally, if you want it to be a two-way portkey, you must focus on the return coordinates or location." Salazar finished.

Harry picked up a stone from the floor and thought hard, focusing on the table next door in the library. After he was sure he had the image fixed in his mind, he tapped the stone and whispered, " _Portus_ " and the stone glowed blue. He closed his eyes and counted.

 _Three, two, one... tug!_

He felt a tug in his navel as he was forced through a narrow tube, or at least that's what it felt like. He felt himself get squeezed and before he could figure out what was happening, he was back to standing on the ground, albeit very uncomfortable and nauseous.

 _That went well!_

He watched Salazar as he walked out of the library. His expression was one of glee.

"I knew you could do it." He remarked.

Before Harry could smile, he was cut short by another remark.

"Again!"

Harry groaned.

* * *

 **## I took the directions on 'how to create a portkey' from 'Lorddwar's Summer of Change'. Needless to say, I had already asked for his permission before using it.**


	25. ROTD 25 :Holidays and Knockturn Alley

Hermione Granger sat alone in a lone compartment. She had been forcible sent back home for the Christmas holidays, a decision made by the Headmaster, and was irrevocable, like some of his previous decisions regarding her. She thought about how unfair it was that the Headmaster seemed to control her life. She never spared a thought about the fact that said Headmaster had exercised much more control on Harry's life and she had wholeheartedly supported the decision because the Headmaster was " _the most powerful wizard of the era_ " and a " _great man_ " and that " _he knew best_ ".

Professor McGonagall had already written to her parents about her "unacceptable behavior" and "distressed mindset" was harmful for her education at Hogwarts and that her parents should try to talk to her about it. She had even mentioned the actual events as mundanely as possible and insisted on delivering any form of help as would be required by the Grangers to help their daughter get over her distress. Unfortunately, the Grangers did not really consider things the same way as the Professor had anticipated. Hermione's father Dr. Dan Granger, a dentist by profession and normally a really pragmatic man by personality, was completely put off by the fact that her daughter, who had been an exemplary student with fantastic records all through her primary school, had suddenly deteriorated to such alarming levels in just two years of her magical education. The fact that they didn't really trust the magical world very much didn't help matters either. Considering everything, they decided that the better idea would be to remove Hermione from the Wizarding world and educate her in the muggle world, a world where her daughter was already recognized as a prodigy.

Hermione knew that her parents would be either _completely thrilled_ or _dangerously alarmed_ at the letters. After all, she never had as much as a single demerit in all her primary school life, and here she had come dangerously close to getting expelled from what was considered one of the premier institutions of Magical education. But she never expected that her parents would be waiting for her to return back, only to try to stop her from returning back to the magical world ever again. Needless to say, with her distressed mind, Hermione did not take things well.

After what followed as a really heated argument that included a set of heated words, a couple of misunderstood arguments, some swear words from an angry father, some compliance from a hurting mother and some shouts full of anger from a rather angry daughter. That was followed by a sudden blasting of one of the windows of the neat and clean Granger home, said blasting caused due to accidental magic caused by a distressed magical child; an angry girl raving and waving her wand to call for a rather dilapidated Bus that was one of the more conventional modes of wizard transport. The bus, commonly known as the Knight Bus transported the angry muggleborn into the outskirts of Diagon Alley.

Hermione was rather pleased that she had saved a certain amount of galleons over the past three years and hoped it would be enough for her to rent a place to live in, at least till the end of summer. She wondered if she could get a job somewhere so as continue earning and living off the wages. She got her first shock when she didn't get rooms at the leaky cauldron, since her savings were not enough. Hence it was a rather frustrated Hermione Granger who went off meandering into one of the shabbier looking rent houses that lined the outskirts of Knockturn Alley. She finally found a good enough place to land in, the room was quite good enough, especially for a hotel whose name was "Hag's home" but nevertheless, she promised to herself that it was only temporary. She idly wondered if she should have contacted the Weasleys but somehow refrained from doing so.

Knockturn Alley, after all was said and done, was not really as spooky as Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid had made out to her, during her visit to Diagon Alley the previous year. How much had things changed in a few months; she idly wondered. After a couple of days, Hermione knew the alley almost like the back of her hand.

There were a lot of shops that sold common day-to-day usable products. Most of the shopkeepers sounded all right, if perhaps a tad snappish. The only shop that looked better than the others was a rather large shop called Borgin and Burkes. The owner, Mr. Borgin, a rather slippery person, or so it seemed to her, seemed very interested in her. After a few days, she had confessed to Mr. Borgin about her condition, and the man seemed to take pit on her. How Hermione hated being pitied upon. She asked if he had a job for her, so that she could work for him and earn some wages. After some thinking, Borgin had hired her for five galleons a day in return of eight hours of her work. She had to do the entire book-keeping for him and organize the contents of the shop when she was not at her desk. Borgin and Burkes, was officially a book shop that sold tomes of a rather... darker shade. Unofficially, the shop was the magical equivalent for the underworld marketplace where magical artifacts, cursed items and precious heirlooms were bought and sold. Being the curious kitten that she was, Hermione was eager to see and observe the different artifacts. At first there was a little hesitation, but then slowly her curiosity won over and she began poring through the darker books. It was on one of her working days, that she was rearranging one of the bookshelves when a rather dusty tome fell out and she had to stop and pick it up.

The tome looked old by all means, a dark green cover on the front, with strange runes drawn all over it. Thanking the Gods above that she had decided to buy a rune guidebook the previous year, she took the tome and placed it on her work table. Noticing that Mr. Borgin was away, she decided that a little bunking on the job time wouldn't matter. She pored over her guidebook, trying to decipher the runes on the cover. After what seemed to be almost an hour, she had finally figured the runes out. It was an unsettled Hermione who stared at the tome in front of her hands as the name registered in her mind. A year ago she would have perhaps run away in the reverse direction as fast as her feet could carry her, but now, her mindset had changed. It was with a smiling face that Hermione Granger opened the first page of the tome. She never noticed the dry smirk on the face of her employer standing in the shadows, as he spotted the name of the tome his employee was so keen on studying.

 ** _"_** ** _Magic moste evile..."_**

* * *

A very jovial Harry Potter had returned back from Hogwarts via the Hogwarts Express. The entire journey was a very different one, but no less jolly than any other. It was quite a contrast to his previous experience on the Express. The normal compartment was expanded using spatial expansion charms, and the entire gang seemed to fit inside the single compartment quite well. For the first time he was travelling without Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Also, it was for the first time that he had travelled by the train without a customary visit from that inbred scion of Malfoy. Said inbred scion was presently sitting in the comfortable Slytherin Common room, with Ron Weasley and a couple of his... allies. Said allies consisted of the two muscular followers named Crabbe and Goyle respectively, along with his betrothed Pansy Parkinson and a couple of students from the second and fourth years, who trembled at the Malfoy name. The group was discussing on ways by which they could make life difficult for Potter and his mindless followers.

Harry and Daphne got down with their friends at Kings Cross, and found the station to be slightly less crowded than normal. Wishing each other goodbye, Tracy and Theo went off to the Floo counter to Floo back to their respective residences. Neville and Susan were busy chatting about something when a rather heavy voice called out Neville's name. Said voice belonged to a rather intimidating lady who stood in a rather regal dress robe with a large hat on her head. The peculiarity about the hat was that there was a stuffed...vulture on top of it. Harry wondered if that was what the pinnacle of wizarding fashion for elders was like for a moment, before getting distracted by Neville's shout.

"Gran!" Neville called out, pulling Harry with him as he approached the rather intimidating woman.

 _So this must be the Lady LongBottom!_

Rushing forward, Harry stepped in front of her and gestured in an appropriate pureblood manner. The grand lady recognized his gesture and forwarded her hand as Harry kissed her knuckles softly. Raising his head, he calmly looked into her eyes and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you Lady LongBottom."

Her eyebrows raised at recognizing who it was in front of her, the lady smiled. "It was a pleasure seeing you too, Lord Potter."

"Not Lord yet Madame, just the formal Head", Harry countered with a smile.

"Ah! Well I think this is the second time I am seeing you ever since you were born. Your father and my son Frank were... good friends. They were Aurors, working in the same regiment."

"Oh... I didn't know that Ma'am. Neville never told me that his parents were ...also..."

"They are not dead", the Lady LongBottom interrupted, "they are just... permanently incapacitated."

"They are residents of Saint Mungo's permanent Spell damage ward." Neville said aloud, numbly.

Noticing her grandson's behavior, her eyes narrowed. "You should not be ashamed of them Neville. They were heroes. You should strive to be like them."

"As if I could ever be anything more than a squib", Neville mumbled to himself rather harshly.

Harry noticed the sudden change in his friend's behavior, but decided to hold back for the moment. "I hope we can meet again in the near future Madame. Neville has been a great friend to me this year."

"Well he should. You are god-brothers after all. You should have been friends, if not family since your first year."

At Harry's gob smacked expression, she continued, "I take it that you were ignorant of the fact. Your mother was Neville's Godmother, and my daughter-in-law was yours."

"i... didn't know" Harry mumbled out.

"Naturally, although I surely wonder why Neville kept this away from you." She added, adding a furious glance at Neville.

"I didn't think you would want to do anything with me... I was hopeless in everything... still am in a lot of things... anyway." Neville added, his tone bitter.

"You and I need to sort out a lot of things Nev."

"You are invited to celebrate the Christmas holidays with us Mr. Potter, if you so desire. And please, call me Augusta."

"Thank you madam... err... Augusta. But I'm already invited at the Greengrasses and I have had accepted it prior to this conversation."

"I see... well...in case you are free during the remaining of the holidays, do come for a day or something. If not, there is always Summer."

"Sure thing Augusta."

* * *

Daphne Greengrass stood watching silently as her betrothed went off and approached the intimidating lady LongBottom, who was well known in the Pureblood social circles. The regal woman was notorious for her intimidating aura and appearance, not to forget the political power she wielded at the Wizengamot. Although the LongBottoms were a Light Family, the lady had often voted in favor for the neutral blocks whenever something sensible was passed by them. While notorious for her demanding of proper pureblood etiquette to be followed, she was a fierce opponent for the likes of Malfoy family and their associates. She watched Harry display a perfect manner of pureblood mannerisms.

 _Where are Snape and Malfoy right now? They should watch the boy now, and see if he is really the brash Gryffindor they claim he is..._

Hearing her name called out from a part of the now busy platform, she turned to her left to see her family waving towards her. Astoria had already reached out to her parents and was now waving at Daphne together with her family. Daphne smiled inwardly, and strode towards them.

"I notice your betrothed has already begun establishing alliances." Cyrus Greengrass commented.

"He is something else, isn't he? "Victoria commented in general.

"Yes. He is." Daphne mumbled to herself.

* * *

Harry left the LongBottoms to find Daphne, already with her family, looking at him. He darted off towards them and shook Cyrus's hand strongly, eliciting a soft smile in his face. Victoria reached over and gave him a soft hug. Harry could not help but compare it with the bone-breaking hugs that Mrs. Weasley and Hermione used to give him. The hug was soft and enjoyable, and he was now sure that Daphne had got the same traits from her mother. Smiling back in return, he joined the Greengrasses as they flooed back to their manor.


	26. ROTD 26: A forgotten lore

On Christmas morning, the Greengrass family and it's soon-to-be-member Harry Potter got up quickly at the ungodly hour of six in the morning. There were a couple of rituals to be performed and Harry was keen on observing the rituals of a family as old as the Greengrasses were supposed to be. Being a descending branch of the bloodline of Morgana le Fay, the family was one of the few fringe families of magical Britain. Harry had not known anything about the fringe families but later on he had a conversation with one of the elders of the family about it. He had been introduced to Viridian Greengrass, the eldest living member of the family. The woman looked ancient, and was apparently over two hundred and fifty years old. Considering that Dumbledore was around a hundred and fifty, Harry was expecting a rather frail woman, but what he found was a stoic woman who had a fixed sense of life and purpose. He had later had a very enlightening conversation with her.

"So what are the fringe families about?"

"The fringe... is an association of old pureblood families that still follow the old ways." Looking at Harry's bewildered look, she quickly followed up, "The old ways refer to the ways followed by the warlocks and sorcerers of the old times, before the Wizengamot came into existence. Before the novo... unpleasantness of pureblood ideology sprang upon magical Britain."

"You mean the purebloods weren't always like this?"

"NO!" She said with a rather condescending expression. "have you not read of the time before the Pureblood Ideology began?"

Harry looked down sheepishly.

"I see... very well... let's retire to the drawing room!"

* * *

"During the time before, as our elder scrolls say..." She began, "there was the age of Albion. A time when magic was untamed and pure, not chained in incantations or wand movements. It was a time when raw magic manifested itself into different forms and among different kinds of wizards."

"Hang on... different kinds of wizards?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes. Different kinds. Not the common wand wielders of today, but different wizards wielding different magical forms. There were the Necromancers, powerful mages who had powers of raising and manipulating the powers of Death," Harry shuddered at the thought, "Chaoticians, who could mold magic in its wildest, purest form, without any incantation, just thought; Warmages who could wield powerful battle magic and destroy hordes of enemies with nothing but a staff and a few incantations; DragonLords and Elementals and so much more. An age when magic ran free... the age of Albion." She suddenly stopped, as if engaged in some kind of trance.

"DragonLords?"

"Yes... people who could talk to dragons and all other forms of serpents. They had their own language known as -"

"Parseltongue" Harry said out, more to himself than to her.

"Yes." She replied, eyeing him curiously, and then suddenly her eyes widened as she recognized, "You are a parselmouth, aren't you?"

Harry stared for a second, but then shook his head slightly. "How did you infer?"

"I may be old and frail, but I do keep an eye on the happenings of this madhouse you call a country." She chuckled, "You do know that Parselmouths are descendants of the ancient DragonLords, right?"

Glancing at Harry's dumb expression, she interred, "Of course you did not. Anyway, yes they are. Although the ancient magic of the DragonLords are now extinct, ever since the abilities were taken away."

Harry looked up at her, surprised.

 _Taken away?_

"We will come to that part later. Let's continue from where we left. So... the different wizard communities lived in peace and prosperity, and were normally peace-loving people. Except when the mundanes would spring a sudden attack on one of the settlements."

Harry interrupted her again. "Excuse me! But how could mundanes attack wizarding settlements and win? I mean, I know about the witch burnings and everything, but that was a different situation altogether. But after hearing the powers of the ancient wizards, I cannot fathom how mundanes could have done anything with their simple weapons."

"Yes you are right, they couldn't. Except that their weapons weren't simple. They were magical."

 _What?_

Harry blinked.

"I'm sorry... did you just say that mundanes attacked magical people with magical weapons?"

Viridian chuckled darkly. "Yes, I know, irony at its best. The mundane armies had their priests, who were nothing more but practitioners of Sacrificial magic themselves. They wanted to be the rulers of the magical community, but had been defeated and exiled away by the ancient ruling families."

"Slytherin, Eveningshade, Peverell, Grim, Gryffindor, Le fay and Emrys." Harry said out, almost like a chant.

Viridian's eyes widened again, as she smirked. "You are full of surprises Mr. Potter. But then again, you are the descendant of the Ancient family of Slytherin. Although I wonder who told you about the families of arcane times. Makes me wonder what else you know and what more secrets you hold close to your chest."

Harry's smile turned into a slight smirk. "A couple more, perhaps."

"Indeed? Very well... we shall continue."

"So... the commoners of the wizarding settlements were very vulnerable to the now galvanized mundane armies, who left back troves of destruction wherever they plundered. There were a few battles between the war mages and the armies, but most of the attacks were of a "hit-and-run" tactic.

To overcome the oncoming disaster, the magical community decided to hide away, behind a layer of magic, known as the _velum aeternam_ _fidelis,_ an ancient ritual which was slowly developed in the future into an easier form known as the _Fidelius_. The ritual involved invoking the powers of the Chaos dimension using what was notoriously known as the Forbidden arte." She glanced at him for a second to see his lack of response over the mention, and she inwardly smirked.

 _So you know about the Chaos Dimension and the forbidden arte! What other ancient secrets have been divulged to you Harry Potter?_

She continued with her monologue. "Every ritual demands a sacrifice in return of manifesting the desires of the priest that conducts the ritual. The more powerful the ritual, the higher is the magic required to fuel it, and the bigger is its sacrifice. The ritual was conducted by the seven ruling families as it was only their family magic, when used together, could afford to pull off the ritual successfully. The ancient Gods were invoked at the Isle of the Blessed, the Chaos returned to the mortal realms, offering them the fulfillment of their deepest desire, a powerful enchantment that hung over the magical community, hiding them in broad daylight, erasing the memories of their existence from the minds of the fellow mundanes. The magical community was finally safe."

Viridian paused for a moment, letting Harry grasp the entire truth of the history, and then she resumed. "The magical world was protected, but now the sacrifice was to be endured. Old magic is all about balance, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth-" She stopped abruptly and nodded to Harry, who understood her gesture as he continued where she had left off— "a life for a life and a soul for a soul."

"Have you ever thought of attending a fringe ceremony Mr. Potter?" She generally asked.

"I do not yet know what the damn _fringe_ is yet." Harry countered.

"Very well... the chaos demanded the magical abilities of the ancient families in return. NOT their magic", she added quickly at Harry's horrified look, "just their abilities. There were Parselmouths but without the ancient powers that the DragonLords wielded. There were mages but not with the powers of the warlocks or sorcerers. Where Chaoticians could mold magic like water with nothing but a thought, the new wizards had only what could be called as wandless magic. Family magic existed, but only as a special form of raw undiluted magic that could be invoked when the family was in grave danger. The original necromantic powers of the Peverells were gone, the only remnant being the three Hallows whose existence faded from the pages of history. The ancient powers were now known as the ancient bloodline abilities."

 _Hallows?_

"Now there is something that you need to know. There were another kind of wizards that survived the sacrifice-the ordinary wizards. Wizards who were normally what we would normally call now as Muggleborns. The difference between them and the families was their magical core."

"Magical core?"

"Yes. You see every family of old had a special affinity to a particular kind of magic. Somewhere into necromancy, others in battle magic, and others in the dark arts. The Muggleborns then, however did not have any such affinities and their core was of a generic form, as was expected truly. They were known as the Raw Wizards." Harry nodded as she resumed, "The newer generations of the old families however, refused to accept the truth. They believed that it was the generic core of the Raw Wizards that had affected the families leading to the decrement of their magical affinities. In a way that was the truth too. The effects of the sacrifice and the merging of Raw wizard blood into the families of the old families had diluted the original bloodlines. The newer descendants of the families protested against the Raw wizards, and slowly that protest began to grow into bigotry and prejudice. Add to that a couple of centuries, and you get what you have in the present."

Harry nodded grimly. He could well understand how the present magical Britain ended up the way it was.

"What about the newer families? Where did they come from?"

"Well the Slytherin and the Eveningshade were squibbed out. The Gryffindors broke into LongBottoms and McKinnon's while the Peverells descended into Potters. But you already know that. My family was one of the descending branches of the Le Fay family while the Emrys line ended after the great Myrrdin Emrys disappeared."

Harry caught on. "Disappeared... not died..."

"Disappeared." Viridian was enjoying the conversation." Surely you do not think that a magical born like Emrys would die from a disease or a curse."

"magical born?"

"yes. Emrys was magic personified. He was a descendant of magical energies, that was granted to the Emrys Line from the Chaos. Gifted wielders of Reality distortion magicks, all of them. And Myrrdin, he was a natural. I personally like to believe that after all was said and done, Myrrdin distorted our reality into one in which he simple did not exist after a certain time period. Perhaps that is why there are no belongings or vaults or artifacts belonging to the house of Emrys, existing anymore in the magical world."

At the silent face of her companion, she continued, "The world changed. Normal wand wielders, the commoners became the majority. The people who could actually delve into the depths of magic, became the minority. It is the nature of the human mind to fear what they cannot comprehend. They feared the powers of old, declaring them occult, dark and forbidden, either hidden away in the Department of Mysteries or stored away in the hidden vaults of some of the old families, who still practice the ways of old. The families, who formed the _fringe._.."

Viridian got up from her chair. "It's been a wonderful and very... enlightening conversation Mr. Potter. Perhaps someday I might be expecting you to participate in a fringe ceremony?"

"Someday..." Harry smiled back.

"I believe your betrothed must be awaiting your return. It's time for the gifts of Christmas! Fancy festival I know, but enjoyable and worthwhile."

Nodding to her, they exited the room for the hallway.

* * *

 **###This is a short chapter I know. But I only wanted to focus on the history lesson...Special thanks to jerrway69 for allowing me to use the name "Eveningshade" and the name "Fringe". Hope you like the chapter.** **So... bear with me! Reviews everyone!**


	27. ROTD 27 : Christmas and Brainstorming

It was the first Christmas that Hermione Granger was celebrating without her family. She had gotten any letters from her parents, not that it was possible. She didn't have an owl and it wasn't like her parents knew how to use Owl Post anyway. Her Christmas morning had been spent in her usual book keeping while her employer had gone off to celebrate Christmas with his family. Mr. Borgin may be a shallow bastard, she thought to herself, but he also had a touch of humanity in him. The cold man had allowed her to stay all day at his shop even after her working hours were over. Unsurprisingly, she spent the remaining time in reading some of the texts she found that were marked as 'safe to touch'.

She had returned to her studies from her research papers of Dark Arts, trying to apply what rudimentary knowledge of runes and Arithmancy she had known. It was difficult, very difficult to understand first, but Hermione was nothing if not tenacious. She took the entire thing as a challenge, and for the first time, her homework and school texts got demoted in terms of priority and studying arcane knowledge became important to her. Some of the rituals she found were completely gross and inhuman, and more often than not, she wondered she wondered about the nature of the person who had divined and created the gruesome rituals. But all of it was not horrible. There was one ritual, she had found which peaked her interest, more than anything else.

The _Suscitare Sanguinis_ ritual.

Also known as the ritual of revitalization, the ritual involved awakening the magical potency of her blood and bringing her magical affinity to the surface. The book explicitly said that magical abilities were supposed to be awakened naturally, else complications could occur. However, for people who were never able to find their magical affinity, and had enough desire to do so, found their solace in this ritual. Not that complex to look at the first glance, the ritual involved use of some special ingredients and a lot of blood of the person attempting the ritual. It also promised a lot of pain in the aftermath of the ritual's completion, and should anything go wrong, the ramifications were horrible. In case an accident occurred in the ritual, the magical core would turn on itself, causing the magical core to shatter, squibbing the person at the very least and death at most. While it was a matter of extreme risk, the gifts offered were also promising. The person was blessed with natural Occlumency shielding and sharpened memory. Though the Occlumency shields would not be perfect, it would be enough to hold back until the practitioner had developed her own shields from scratch by practicing Occlumency. It took Hermione another day to find out what Occlumency actually was, which later led to her discovering of the frowned upon art of Legilimency. Her mind raced ahead and soon enough in a brainstorm of thoughts, she had figured out something that had been on her mind for long. She now knew _how Harry had known_ that she had used a love potion. She now knew that the intrusive feeling she had felt while looking at Harry in the eye was Harry's Legilimency attack on her. But how had Harry known about Legilimency? Given that she was reading from a book that would be classified as dark, she figured out that it was impossible that Harry of all people had read of the term from a library book. After all, Harry hardly went to the library. She wondered how Harry had gotten to know how to use Legilimency and one thought led to another, and soon enough she figured out that the change in Harry came in after his altercation with Riddle.

 _Was Voldemort was influencing Harry to turn to the dark arts?_

 _Is that's the reason why Harry had suddenly turned to those books? Perhaps that is also why he is with that Slytherin bitch. I have to save Harry. I have to stop Harry from turning over to Voldemort's side. I have to save him from the clutches of that Slytherin bitch! I have to!_

Harry might not want to listen to her. She admitted to herself that the use of a love potion was foolhardy and full of loopholes. She needed something better. But if Harry was into the Dark Arts, he would need to be brought back. Given how dense he was; it was improbable that he would be able to do that without her help. She had helped him with Quirrel, she had helped him with the basilisk and the diary, and it would be her again who would help Harry to return back from the clutches of Voldemort and Greengrass.

But would she do that? Dumbledore or the teachers won't help her, that was for sure. Ron, well he was an idiot anyway; a bigoted lazy idiot. Ginny was... well she didn't really know her well. And sadly she didn't have any friends at school too apart from them. All she had was...

She glanced at the parchments in her hand. The papers were filled with scurry notes of her research of the ritual. She smiled. She now had a purpose and a way to accomplish the purpose to completion. She would have to be stronger to get Harry back. And she would.

* * *

Harry sat in the hallway with Daphne and the rest of her family. The gifts were lying around them, and now it was time to open them. With an eagerness that surprised him, Harry pulled up the first package his hand reached. It was from Neville. He tore the wrappers off and found that Neville had gifted him a book. Opening it, he read the title. " _Animagi: All you need to know_ ". Harry wondered how Neville had known that he was an animagus. It seemed the chubby boy could be sneaky when he wanted. Smiling to himself, he reached out for the second one. It was a dragon hide Jacket from Tracey. It was just like Tracey to gift him something related to dresses. Her family was into the cloth business and Tracey could talk about clothing trends for hours. She often reminded Harry of the women he used to see on TV when he was a small child at the Dursleys.

Daphne had neatly unwrapped her gifts and was steadily placing her gifts away, anticipating what Harry might have bought for her. She finally got his and quickly unwrapped it. A neat packed book fell out. Daphne read the name and could not stop herself from showing her surprise. It was a book on Healing along with a small card from Madam Pomfrey inviting her to study Healing at during her free hours under her supervision. She was surprised that Harry knew about her fondness for the subject of Healing, but she was surprised to see the lengths Harry had gone to give her a gift she would appreciate. The way she had received the invitation card from Madam Pomfrey had Harry Potter written all over her. She glanced at him only to see him holding the wand holster she had gifted him with a serene smile on his face. It hurt her that while Harry had gone to such lengths to surprise her, her gift to Harry was just plain. She figured that she would have to do better.

The last gift for Harry had been a book from Blaise. He opened it to see the name "100 ways to prove I'm an Idiot". Harry held back a laugh, thinking that it was rather comical of Blaise to send him such a book for Christmas. After all, Blaise was an enigma. Dangerously informed about magical arts, and the most suave person he had ever met; Blaise had a wicked sense of humor. But something told him that he was missing something. Acting on instinct, he applied a Finite Incantatem on the book. The book remained the same, but the name changed into something else. It now read "Aegis Mentalis".

 _Trust Blaise to send me a book on Occlumency, knowing that the art is frowned upon!_

* * *

After the gifts were done with, the young couple had retired to Daphne's room so that they could spend some time together, as that was something Harry and Daphne had not got to themselves ever since they had arrived back home. The first two days had gone in a flurry, given the fact that the winter solstice Wizengamot session was being held. Daphne did not know much about what happened but she was sure that there was some interesting going on. Harry and her father had literally spent the day after the solstice together in her father's room and the "do not disturb" message was literally given out to the family members. She could not force Harry to tell her anything because well, firstly it was none of her business, and secondly, she had no right to it. She might have been his betrothed, but they weren't engaged yet and he could legally refuse to answer her queries classifying them as House Business and he would be correct according to pureblood protocol. Not that Harry would do that, but still Daphne didn't want to interfere in his matters for the moment.

"Harry."

Daphne did not use his formal name anymore. She had grown emotionally close to him, at least she thought so. It had even affected her behavior in school. The Ice-Queen mask that she had adorned quite much in previous years was now almost left out. Between her spending time with Harry, her friends group, and not to forget, the crazy amount of time Tracey and Tori spent around her, teasing her and trying to get her to blush; coupled with her classes and sessions, she hardly ever got time or situation to adorn the emotionless mask again. And she was afraid that one day if Harry hurt her, she would be completely vulnerable and would never be able to pull herself together again. Was it any surprise her boggart had taken the form of a cold and calculated _Harry Potter_? It had taken her quite a number of weeks to get that memory out of her mind. She was almost about to ask the professor to Obliviate her of that memory, but fearing it would show her as a coward in the man's eyes, she did not ask for it. She was not a coward. She would face her fears. For Harry was worth it. Or so she wanted to believe.

"Yes Daphne?"

With a blithe smile on her lips, she asserted, "I... wanted to talk to you about... stuff."

Raising his eyebrows, he pointed to her room, "After you?"

Daphne inclined her head slightly and the couple went into her room and made themselves comfortable.

"I... uhm... wanted to talk to you...about. Uhm"

"Who are you and what have you done with Daphne Greengrass?" Harry interrogated humorously.

"Not helping!" she muttered harshly to herself.

"Okay, Okay" Harry said, lifting his arms in surrender, on seeing the twisting of her lips.

"I wanted to talk about us!" She completed the entire thing in a single breath. There, she said it and now there was no going back.

"About us?" Harry asked pointedly.

Daphne inclined her head again.

After what seemed like a very tedious one minute of silence, Daphne spoke again, "I... kind of... wanted to apologize to you."

Eyebrows raised, Harry asked, "Apologize? What for?"

"For being a cold bitch!" Daphne muttered to herself.

"For being so unsupportive and cold to you for the first two weeks after we met for the first time for lunch."

"Oh!" Harry mumbled. "Well, not a big deal really." He shrugged, and stood up, thinking that the talking was done. He had never seen Daphne behaving like this. Her coldness, her sarcasm, her arrogant behavior at times during their sessions, he could handle all of that. But an emotional Daphne was beyond the universe of possible things, according to him.

"It is a bloody big deal Potter". At Harry's raised eyes, she added quickly "I mean Harry. I just wanted to say thank you for being so supportive to me even though you had no idea about the contract."

"Okay! Well, thanks. I guess." Harry wondered what the situation was going to end at. Lord of Slytherin he may be, but not one of Salazar's discussions involved around how to console an emotional girl.

Daphne stood up, and walked up to him, slowly. Harry could not help but notice yet again how nature had been good to her, her curves were coming along quite wonderfully and he was sure that by the time they graduated, Daphne would be one hot... uhm... gorgeous woman.

"I... also wanted to say thank you for helping me all this while, since the summer." She now stood very close to him, her hand touching his right shoulder.

"And also thank you for teaching me the spells in our sessions..." She was now dangerously close. Harry could feel her breath on her face.

"And for saving me from those Dementors..." Harry was sure he was about to faint.

"and..." She kissed his lips. Softly. Taking her time, enjoying the contact. Harry forgot his concerns and embraced her and kissed her back...

After almost a minute, her lips left his. Daphne almost giggled looking at his rather goofy smile.

"I may have some more help for you." Harry replied back cheekily.

"is that so? Mr. Potter?" Daphne returned with a sly smile.

"I would like to think..." Harry countered.

"Well then, I guess I should thank you properly..."

The bedroom door closed with a small tap, and the knob glowed blue, indicating that a locking charm had been applied on it. It was two hours until the door reopened.

* * *

 **### finally, some Harry-Daphne scene for the readers! OOOF! It was taking forever for me to reach up to Christmas Day! Hope I did not disappoint anyone, with my first attempt at writing romance! Reviews people!**


	28. ROTD 28 : Ghosts from the future past

Salazar Slytherin was an avid believer of the principle that death did not matter for people who still had works left to complete. His belief was reaffirmed by the fact that even centuries after his death, he was once again proactive. To be honest, he was more proactive than he was in the last decade of his life. He finally had a proper descendant from his and his wife's lineage and he would leave no stone unturned to groom him properly. His mind went back to the infamous words of the Oracles of the Isle of the Blessed, the words of the prophecy uttered after the ruling families lost their abilities. He often wondered if he should tell his heir about the tales of his lineage. Knowing how incredibly perceptive his heir was, he knew it was only a moment before Harry would deduce that Salazar was hiding certain... facts from him. Perhaps it was for the same reason that he had engaged Harry in tales of the olden times, in a way grooming him for accepting what was about to come. Sometimes he wondered if he did the correct thing by revealing Harry Potter of his true lineage. He pondered over whether Harry had forgotten about the fact that Salazar had told him to keep his Eveningshade lordship a secret. Perhaps he should have told him about his other lordship. Yes, perhaps, however now was not the time.

Salazar had a total of three portraits made during his lifetime. One placed inside the inner room of the Chamber of Secrets, only available to his blood heir when he came up; another was placed in the hallway of the Illusion Masters Guild, a society of extra ordinary mages who researched and held secrets of the ancient magicks of the Forbidden Arte. The third, was in the Department of Mysteries, in a room adjacent to the Room of the Veil. He had channeled certain magical powers into his portrait that would enable the portrait to know if the Veil was stirring again. Together, the three portraits worked in coordination, even centuries after his death, working to fulfill the oath that was taken by him, just like the Illusion Masters that came before and after him, working to keep the Chaos Dimension from seeping into mortal realms. It would not do to have that happen again. The last time a tiny Chaotic creature had entered into the mortal realm, it had manipulated the normal magical fire into something so chaotic and powerful, that it was theoretically uncontrollable. A form of fire that was later aptly named as _Fiendfyre_.

He wondered if he should begin educating Harry about soul magicks and their interpolation. After all, soul magicks were the most vulnerable magical arts that was available to the present wizarding generations that had links into the Chaos Dimension. He pondered if he should have told Harry the truth of the soul piece stuck inside his scar. Perhaps then Harry would be able to understand and appreciate what his family magick was fighting against. He remembered Harry telling him about the results of his cleansing ritual. Salazar had almost turned pale with horror listening to the goblin healer's interpretations of the cleansing ritual. It was good that Harry was ignorant of it. After all, he was still a young boy and deserved to live his life to the fullest. _Before everything fell apart._

Salazar pondered over the words of the prophecy again. It was a super rare event in the history of mankind to have an Oracle of Delphi to manifest in human form and prophesize an event. Honestly, if he had it right, then his heir was a Nexus to the timeline. A Nexus- A person with enough power and potency to change the waves of time and destiny, one with the powers to attain sway over the Chaos Dimension. It was mind boggling. What should a human have in him to reject the offers of being a God? It took Myrrdin himself to demolish the powers of Morgana le Fay when she was reduced to being a pawn of the Chaos, and numerous powerful Warmages and Chaoticians had died in the process. Whether his heir had it in him or not, he did not know. What he did know however, was that his heir would be the cause of a great change in the world, something comparable to the changes that the Great Myrrdin Emrys brought in the universe. He could lead the world into another Albion, or drop it into the eternal Darkness of Chaos. And this time, there would be no one to stop him, if he did decide the later.

Salazar shuddered when he suddenly remembered about the soul piece...the horcrux... that was in the diary. It shuddered him to even think that someone, even if he was of the despicable Gaunt blood, could release something so vile into the mortal realms. The ramifications of fracturing a soul, he wondered if that oaf of a Dark Lord even knew what he was doing. And to think he did all that in the name of Salazar Slytherin...It drove Salazar mad.

The horcrux was likely destroyed by the Basilisk Venom, that he was sure. But whether the effects of the horcrux were completely obliterated from the mortal world, he was doubtful. He would need to increment the speed of Harry's tutelage. Harry would need the protection rituals performed if he could even begin studying about the Chaos, never mind working to actively destroy their manifested effects present somewhere in the world.

He wished Evolette would have had her portrait done before her untimely death. At least her portrait would have been there to give him company and advice during such times of deep desperation. It was ironical how he had to work for the safety of Hogwarts even though Godric was the Headmaster; and even now centuries after his death, he was still doing the same while that fool of a Headmaster was sitting on his arse, tinkering with things he had no idea about. What kind of moron would bring something so insanely dangerous as the Mirror of Erised into Hogwarts of all places? He pondered what Harry would say when he would know that Salazar had not told him the complete truth about the mirror. He wondered how Harry had escaped its clutches so many times? It was simply improbable, impossible, and unbelievable. Even _felix felicis_ would not make one lucky enough to escape the clutches of the Chaos if it held someone in it and Harry was just an eleven-year-old boy with barely a couple of months into the world of magic.

He hoped Harry would return as soon as possible. He needed the boy to awaken his blood. It would be easy to do so, now that he had already cleansed his blood and magic to maximum potency as could be possible. He had already begun mastering his elemental powers, however ignorant he was of what being an elemental actually meant. It was good that the boy had a natural talent for the mind magicks, it would be easier for him to grasp the concepts of illusory magicks. Maybe Salazar should reveal some more half-truths to him, baked in tales of old. The boy surely loved listening to tales with complete attention. It reminded him of how Shezar behaved when hearing tales from Nicholas.

Nicholas! He needed to contact him, and discuss the happenings with him. Perhaps he should make Harry contact him in future. Harry had told him that the Sorcerer's stone was destroyed during his fight with the Dark Lord. It was completely idiotic! Salazar was sure that even a full powered fulmen from Godric himself couldn't have caused more than a minor dent on the stone. So the only other option was that the stone given by Nicholas to Dumbledore for his tomfoolery was a pale imitation of the original stone. The pathetic scoundrel of a dark lord could not recognize the true stone from the fake if his life depended on it. He would know, he had personally studied the stone for over a decade. So Nicholas must have given Dumbledore an imitation and that oaf had placed the imitation inside the Mirror of Erised. Imagine if he had put the true stone inside it. Hogwarts and at least Magical Britain would get evaporated almost immediately. The magical world had really turned into a madhouse.

If things went the way they should, Harry should be able to begin learning about the forbidden arte by the next year. It was of the utmost importance. It was exactly for that reason that Salazar had went so far as to provide his heir with his own time turner, one which, apart from its time turning machinations, was able to completely mask the chronological signatures of the bearer. It would not do if his heir got his minds addled by overusing the time turner.

Another surprising development was the discovery of the Room of Illusions. A room which was created by Rowena Ravenclaw, and could be considered as the pinnacle of application of Illusory magic, and yet there wasn't an ounce of reality distortion magic inside it. He knew Rowena, she was completely against the idea of using Reality distortion magicks.

The Room of Illusions would help Harry to become the best version of him. He wondered if his heir had figured out the limits of the Room. He knew Rowena had been working on Chronomantic magic, if she was successful, then the possibilities of her Room would be endless.

He pondered over Harry's current progress. In less than a year, the boy had become almost a prodigy at offensive and defensive spell magic, had rudimentary knowledge of runic magic, knew enough Arithmancy to rival a professor, had basic knowledge of battle magic and was now pursing mastery over mind magicks. He was the only person in history that Salazar knew to have two magical forms, but unfortunately the boy had absolutely zero development in that field. He wondered if he should devise a ritual for that front. His heir had told him that he was being trained in dueling. Bah! What good would that do? Yes, being a dueling champion had its perks in society, but considering the happenings of the future, he was doubtful if it would do him any good. He would need combat training, not that silly wand weaving that wand wielders referred to as dueling. But the boy needed some satisfaction in his life, and if dueling could give him that, who was Salazar to complain about it? But he never once underestimated the fact that the boy needed combat training, and as much of it as was possible. It was for that reason that he had introduced him to Godric's memories of sword wielding. And to think that Godric's own bloody sword gave Harry its allegiance! The boy needed to know as much battle magic as possible, and who better to train him than a bloody Warmage himself. Hence, the memories.

Maybe he needed to call another council meeting of the Illusion masters, and discuss about the new developments. Maybe the members who held high positions in the Department of Mysteries could help them in that endeavor. The waves of time were in motion, and something ancient was about to enter into this world. Salazar could feel it in his...painted bones. And in the center of everything was Harry.

He needed the boy here. But he had looked at his face and acted out of sympathy and emotion and agreed in his one month vacation. At least the boy would return back by the full moon. He would need to increase the-

An almost silent pop broke him out of his reveries. The boy, his descendant was here. But it was too early. He had not expected him to arrive at least in the next seven days. Not that he would complain. But something was wrong. Harry, his heir was looking completely flustered, his eyes red with lack of sleep and rest, and his face revealing his inner turmoil.

"harry?"

"Salazar... I need your help!"

Harry fainted.

* * *

 **### Any one shocked by any revelations? How is the story going? Did you expect that coming? review review!**


	29. ROTD 29 : Vengeance

**###Thank you for your continuous interest in my story! Not to delay any further, enjoy! Don't forget to review!**

* * *

"Daphne?"

Daphne turned back to see her father getting ready and reaching for his coat.

"Yes father?"

"Aah, you see I and Harry here, are going for a business meeting", he looked sharply at Harry, "to introduce him to a couple of my associates."

Harry nodded in turn automatically.

"So could you", he turned to her, "go off to the winery to see if the workers have got their Christmas bonuses on my behalf?"

Daphne had a hundred questions running into her mind at that instant. Why was her father taking Harry out for business work? What was the sudden urgency? Why now? She wanted to fire questions at them all at once.

"Sure Dad." She nodded.

Giving his eldest daughter a serene smile, he took his soon-to-be son-in-law 's hand and apparated away. Daphne watched her betrothed leave with her dad, her thoughts running back to their time spent yesterday in her room.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew was in a dilemma. The last twelve years that he had spent as a rat were almost... satisfying to him in a strange way. No worries, no calls from the dark lord, no mad enemies trying to kill him, no estranged death-eater friends to look out for, just him, a tiny old brown rat with one lost paw, living off the generous food offered by the banshee of a woman. He was lucky that the red headed lazy boy that used to own him as a pet was a voracious eater and perhaps the laziest guy on the planet. How that dumb troll could ever be insanely good at chess, he could never understand. Perhaps the other redheads were a bunch of morons when it came to chess or something. Nevertheless, his life was still satisfying enough, if not as a wizard then as a rat. Not to mention he often got a good show from the women of the house hiding in his rat form.

But those days were now over. Peter Pettigrew, war hero and winner of Order-of-merlin, was now Peter Pettigrew, betrayer of the Potters and a fugitive death eater, and all of that because of that Boy. How he loathed Harry Potter. Even if Sirius had been able to break out of Azkaban, chances were negligible that he would have been able to catch Peter if not for that damned child of Lily and James Potter. How that cretin survived his master's killing curse he would never understand. He was almost bidding his time in anticipation for the wretched child to arrive so that he could kill him with his bare hands. And if not for Albus Dumbledore, he even might have succeeded. But his greatest surprise had come when he had found that his master had been living off as some sort of symbiont on another professor's head. It was completely a misfortune that he had come to hear of it after said professor was burnt to a crisp by that same wretched boy and that his master had to supposedly flee away to survive. Balls! He did not understand what to believe and what not. But one thing was sure, his master was alive, well ... alive in a wraith form. He wondered if he should just let the news let it be as it was. But then, he remembered how he was treated by the higher pureblood families at his Lord's service. He did not want to be like Snape, a slave to two masters. But what if he helped the Dark Lord to resurrect himself back to his old self? Surely his master would provide him with greater powers and a higher position in his inner circle. He would then show the Malfoys and the Selwyns the finger in the eye. But could he achieve that? He had to get a clue where to begin. He had to—

Peter's inner monologue was interrupted by an odd flutter of wings above him. Looking up, he found a rather old barn owl trying to reach him. His animagus senses suddenly overpowering him, he jumped away in hope to survive. Suddenly remembering that he was in his wizard form and not in rat form, he stood back and checked the owl.

A letter? Who would send me a letter?

Checking for portkey using a makeshift wand he had stolen from an ignorant wizard in Diagon Alley, he assessed the parchment. Finding none, he reluctantly opened the letter to read its contents. His eyebrows rose further and further until it almost hid among his bushy hair locks, as he read.

 _Dear Wormtail,_

 _I hope this letter finds you in good mental and physical health (relatively speaking that is). The boy is going to be at Greengrass manor for the holidays. I wish you best of luck in your endeavor in trying to fulfill your secret desire that your mind always seemed to be clouded with. No, you do not know me and my chaotic plans are not yours to unravel. Try to do otherwise and...everything burns..._

 _Yours truly,_

 _You-know-who._

 _You-know-who?_ Was it his master? But his master was in the form of a wraith. Had he repossessed another wizard? But then, the lettering style was so ambiguous. How could his master have known what he had been desiring since the last year? And if it was not him, then who was it? This was completely a letter by some deranged lunatic. But then again, his Lord was a sort of deranged lunatic. This was crazy.

He looked back at the contents of the letter. The boy was at the Greengrasses. Away from Dumbledore's direct influence. He had heard Ronald complaining how Harry had diverted away, and was no more best mates with him. The things teenagers do to satisfy their overlarge egos. It was delusional.

 _But._... Peter's lips twisted to form a cruel smirk. _Now I have a clue..._

* * *

Harry had just arrived back home with Cyrus after what could be termed as an interesting cum exhaustive day out. The meetings they had, the people were surely interesting, but after you repeat the process over twelve times, it barely retains any of the interest anymore. Still, the meetings had given him quite a perception of the way the brains of the neutral people tended to run and the buttons hat tended to put them in excitation or revulsion. He figured that it was a good first step for his eventual role at the Wizengamot when he would turn of age.

"Harry! You are finally home!" He heard Daphne shout out with an excitement that was almost _foreign_ to her. He decided that their private moments at her room might have affected his betrothal's mood more than he had thought. Smiling, he strode towards her as she walked up to him and embraced him tightly.

Feeling her well-endowed assets was pleasant to him, but the knowledge that they were in public was not. Betrothed he might be, but he did not want any kind of _forced_ pleasantness between Daphne's family and him. His thoughts went on a runner on Daphne's next words.

"Harry, I want you to teach me how to fly on your Nimbus."

 _Daphne? Flying? Was the world coming to an end?_

"Daphne? Are you... all right?" He asked, true concern shining in his eyes.

Daphne almost gulped. "No, Harry. Why are you asking?"

"Just checking." Harry preened at her closely.

"So are you taking me flying or not?" Daphne asked with a huff.

Of course Mistress, of course!" Harry bowed, doing a very funny imitation of a house-elf.

"Prat!" She swayed a hand over his shoulder, trying to punch him.

"Okay okayyy, don't get so violent mistress..." harry laughed, and holding her arm in a rather formal manner, "Shall we?"

Daphne smirked. "Of course my Lord. I even have your broomstick ready with me!"

To say Daphne was scared was a bit unfair. She was, positively terrified when Harry suddenly tore through the air and then took a sharp dive. Squealing her lungs out, she cursed loudly.

"Harry if we die I am going to haunt you forever!"

Harry just smirked and took her for another dive; Daphne's squeals ringing in his years. Out of nowhere, a crimson spell shot out and hit his broomstick, breaking its posterior end, and the couple completely lost it and were rapidly falling through the air. It happened so sudden that it caught Harry unguarded and now here he was, falling down to the ground from a hundred meters above in the air, his betrothed still clinging to him as they fell.

" _Arresto momentum_!" He yelled with all his might.

An invisible dragging force lifted him upwards, and his fall was now almost regulated enough. But then Daphne had to lose he hold on Harry and his attention broke. With one heavy thud, they fell down on the ground, Daphne falling above her betrothed, breaking a few of his ribs for sure.

His primal survival instinct taking over his bodily pains, Harry got up quickly and surveyed the area, hoping to figure out the source of that blasting spell that had hit his broomstick. Whoever had done that, was clearly attempting to kill him, and by inclusion, Daphne. He would be damned if he let anyone harm his girl ever again.

"Hello Harry!"

A very familiar but hated voice called him from behind. Turning back, Harry could hardly believe himself. Standing in front of him, wand pointed at his head, was a smirking Peter Pettigrew.

* * *

His danger alerts now overactive, Harry focused on what he had learnt from his mentors all this time. Now would be a good test of where he actually stood. But there was a complication. Daphne. She was wounded, and in pain. He would not allow Peter to take advantage of her, no matter how he himself was hurting and in pain at the moment. His primal instincts focused, he prepared himself for battle.

" _Attero... Confringo... Obtero.._." Harry kept on firing blasting and bludgeoning spells, all chained together like so many times before, to Pettigrew. Somehow Peter was able to deflect, dodge and shield away from his attempts. Harry continued to rapid fire the low power curses at him, trying to tire his opponent out. Taking a cutting curse to the leg, Pettigrew flipped out and fell, only to regain his position spectacularly fast, and fired a dark withering curse at Harry.

Bringing the Aegis shield into action, Harry defended and let loose another flurry of spells, this time of a little higher power level. If he were true to himself, he was simply testing the waters. He knew he could use more powerful spells but he did not want to play his hand and show his cards out. Pettigrew retaliated with Auror level spells and some dark curses, panting all the while, clearl having the shorter end of the stick now. Harry was now sure that he was gaining the upper ground by this time. He took a moment to glance back at Daphne and saw her slowly get up and come up to him. Hoping to shield her from any accidental spell fire, he slowly moved back, hiding her from the death eater's direct sight.

"Daphne!" he panted, "Are you all right?"

"Yes." There was a foreign tone in her voice. Harry was hardly able to discern the gut feeling in his mind, when he was suddenly struck down by a strong elemental lightning spell. From Behind.

With a guttural cry of pain, he glanced back, only to see Daphne's wand pointed behind him. A smirk in her clouded blue eyes, filled with cruelty.

" _Fulmen!_ "

Another blast of lightning traversed through her wand, travelling at light speed, hitting Harry right on his ribs. He was blasted away by a few meters as he fell down with a thud.

"Finish him, girl!" Peter's voice came from behind. Harry's mind now raced at light speed at the surprise turn of events. Why was Daphne attacking him? Why would she join Peter? Why would he see the hatred clouded in her-?

 _Clouded_. Salazar had taught Harry about the Unforgivables. The Imperius Curse. One that clouds the mind, takes over your rational thought process, essentially rendering you into a mindless slave of the person who has you under the curse. He turned to look at Daphne again, her posture stiff, most unlike when she would fight during the mock battles they sometimes had in the third floor corridor during their practice sessions. Merlin! She was under the Imperius.

"Daphne!" his voice now carried the bodily pain he felt, almost surprising him.

"Fight the curse, Daphne! You are stronger than this. This is not you."

"Kill him girl! I order you."

Daphne nodded and raised her wand, the incantation ready on her lips, but for some reason, she did not want to do so. The voices in her head were convincing. The feeling was so pleasant. It would be a good idea to take Harry out for flying. It would be a good idea to hit Harry with that lightning spell Harry had taught her. It would be a good idea to kill Harry-

Kill Harry? Why would she want to do that? She liked him...she was fond of him... she...loved him. The voice was getting stronger every moment. Her body functioned against her will now, as she tried to stop herself. Her wand raised towards the object of her passions, the incantation ready on her lip, but all she could see was the green eyed boy looking at him with... sadness?

"Daphne! Fight the curse!" Harry's voice rebounded within her mind. She had hurt Harry. Again. She was stronger than the curse. She would not let it control her. She would not.

With a guttural cry, she threw the wand away from her hand. It took all her strength to do so. She had never felt so exhausted in her life. Trying to put up one last smile as she turned towards her loves, she had now accepted it completely, she lost consciousness.

"Bah! And to think I was almost having fun!" spat Pettigrew. "Never you mind, Potter. _Effligo_ " he muttered, and a blasting curse hit Harry again, making him lose consciousness immediately.

* * *

Cyrus Greengrass had been having quite a busy day. First with meeting his associates and then introducing them to the young man next to him, the young man who was the new Lord of Slytherin and one of the most steadfast persons he had ever had the pleasure to meet. The entire day had gone in a blur, however exhaustive it was. He was now looking forward to the day Harry finally took his seats at the Wizengamot. It would be fun rallying with him against the other factions of the Wizarding world. He could almost theorize the wheels turning in the minds of Albus Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy right now. Their faces were in a right...state on hearing that the Lordship of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin was in alliance with the Ancient House of Greengrass, and would be rallying under the neutral banner. They were even more shocked when he had claimed proxy for the seat of Slytherin for the time being. His plans with Harry, Harry's idea of not making his Potter seat active but only the Slytherin one, was a cunning plan. No one, save a few of Daphne's friends knew that Harry was in fact, the new Lord of Slytherin. He was sure that Harry had already received a flurry of owls from different Houses, asking for alliances and likewise.

The boy was truly wonderful. Inspire of being exhausted after the day's ordeals, he had immediately accepted Daphne's demand of going flying with her. Cyrus was almost... disappointed with his eldest daughter's unladylike behavior. He had always believed that she strictly adhered to the Pureblood customs and was mature beyond her years. Yet for her to behave so, was odd.

Yes, it was Odd. Sure every girl displayed some level of oddity during her teens; raging hormones and everything. But then, there was Odd and then there was Odd. This oddity, Cyrus theorized, was strangely of the later type. He could never imagine that his fears would be manifested as within some moments, the estranged voice of his dear daughter, bawling out, weeping her eyes out, as she ran towards him. Holding her firm, he asked her firmly.

"Daphne! Daphne! what is wrong!"

"It's Harry. I was... Harry is now... Harry is in danger... Harry!" Daphne bawled out.

"Daphne! I will save Harry. Now...", he held her firm, "look into my eyes."


	30. ROTD 30 : Futility

_"Daphne! Daphne! what is wrong!"_

 _"It's Harry. I was... Harry is now... Harry is in danger... Harry!" Daphne bawled out._

 _"Daphne! I will save Harry. Now...", he held her firm, "look into my eyes."_

* * *

"Aunt Viridian? Do you have any idea how to get Harry back?" Cyrus asked.

"There is a way... but it will take at least twenty hours to completion, and I have no assurances as to whether Harry would still be there or not by the time we reach there."

"What do you mean?" Daphne cried out.

"This ritual," Viridian paused, "can help us locate the place where the possibility of finding Harry's magical signature is maximum. Of course it shall point out at Hogwarts and his relatives' place, but apart from that, any other location that we get has a high probability that Harry might indeed be present there."

"If this is the best we got at this moment, let's get on with it." Cyrus finalized.

"What do you need?" Daphne asked.

"Get me a piece of Harry, his hair, blood, nail or anything else you may get that belongs to him. Although blood or hair should be better than anything else."

"You got it. "Daphne confirmed and dashed towards Harry's room. Calling her house elf Milly, she ordered her to help her find anything that belongs to Harry. Luckily they found a few pieces of hair on a comb in front of the mirror.

"Don't worry Harry, I won't fail you" Daphne promised to herself as she darted back to her great aunt.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was having a very peculiar Christmas holiday this year. The holidays had begun with a surprise that had shocked him in ways he had never been in decades. It almost made him feel like that old nostalgic feeling when he was still in the Transfiguration guild and used to be baffled by some of the more senior masters there in some obscure concept of Transfiguration. The winter solstice session of the Wizengamot had begun all good and boring, the best way to be according to Dumbledore, but then Cyrus Greengrass had stood up for letting out a few notices. It was almost rare for someone from the neutral banner to hold out notices and hence, Dumbledore had been especially interested in what Greengrass had to say. He was completely shocked to his bones to hear about the activation of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin. He had almost failed from stopping himself from grasping the Elder Wand and get ready to fight Voldemort whenever as soon as he entered the Wizengamot room. But he remained in control of himself as he listened further to what Greengrass had to say. The more he said, the less sense it made to him. At the end, he was sure that Lucius Malfoy must have almost lost his mind trying to make heads or tails of what Cyrus had to say. It was the rule to not interrupt a Lord when he made his speech and Dumbledore had been sure that every single person in the Room was cursing that Pureblood custom in particular at that moment. Just as Cyrus had ended his notice with a formal thanks, pandemonium had erupted in the Wizengamot.

 _There was a new Lord of Slytherin._

 _Said Lord had joined the neutral banner._

 _Said Lord had also joined alliances with the Ancient House of Greengrass._

 _Said Lord had also joined the Greengrass to rally under the Neutral banner._

 _For the first time in decades, the Neutral Banner had an agenda. An agenda which was like a middle path between the Light and Dark extremists. One which accepted the Pureblood conservativeness, but negated the bigotry against Muggleborns._

 _Augusta LongBottom had joined in alliance with the house of Greengrass, and so had Lord Goldstein, Patil and Davis._

 _The vassals of House Slytherin were provided notice to get their audits done, and pay back all the debt they had incurred to Slytherin House._

 _Harrison James Potter, the Head of Ancient and Noble House of Potter, was the Lord of Slytherin._

 _It was madness._

Dumbledore could swear that he could see the wheels turning in Lucius Malfoy's head. The house of Malfoy and Slytherin had been long term allies, since the days of the Vikings till the Slytherin House faded among squibs. It was the Dark Lord's credibility and his apparent inheritance of the Slytherin Lordship that had made Lucius Malfoy and his father Abraxas to shift their allegiances to the Dark Lord. However, the Dark Lord was never actively sworn as the Lord Slytherin. But now, it was the defeater of the Dark Lord, the Boy-who-lived, Harry James Potter, who was the sworn Lord of Slytherin, by blood, by law and by magic. Dumbledore had seen the color changes that occurred on the Slytherin seat when Greengrass had made his notices. Harry Potter was the true heir of Slytherin. It was almost a sweet irony.

 _You have always been resourceful my boy! But this time you have crossed your own records of resourcefulness. I had never expected that you would up me in my game my boy! Well done!_

Mentally making sure to ask Harry how he had pulled off the feat, Dumbledore was getting ready to begin his paperwork when an eagle Patronus had manifested out of nowhere. The familiar, stern voice of Cyrus Greengrass boomed in.

"Harry has been kidnapped by Peter Pettigrew. Help."

"Balls!" Dumbledore was surprised at his unintentional use of profanity.

* * *

Sirius and Remus were at their temporary flat in Hogsmeade, getting a single room ready for their nephew. Harry had promised them that he would spend the entire Boxing Day with them. Sirius had bought a whole new Firebolt for his godson. He had missed out twelve years of Harry's life. He believed whole heartedly that he deserved to spoil his godson like hell. Knowing how spectacular Harry was at Quidditch, he had decided to gift him with an international standard broom. Perhaps that would motivate him to take Quidditch as a career if he was interested.

Remus had kept a ring for gifting Harry which he had bought from a shaman in one of his freelance jobs in Kenya. Being a werewolf meant that he had to go through a huge number of jobs, getting fired at every single one of them due to his lack of punctuality and absence over days at times. There was no way he could reveal to the muggles that he was a werewolf. Hence he was limited for doing simple, freelance odd jobs for wizards. It was on one of those jobs that he had met a shaman who was a crafter of those rings. The rings had a core of a magical creature just like a wand. The rings enabled the wearer to exercise magic just like a wand did. Since these were not covered by the Trace, Remus figured that it would help Harry out of situations when he had to use magic but avoid the Trace. He was almost disappointed when he had heard that Harry was already emancipated and thus his concerns were moot, but then he theorized that ring could be Harry's ace in the sleeve if he lost his wand in the fight. Harry had been nothing short of extraordinary in his performance in DADA all through the year and he was extremely proud of his nephew in all but blood.

He and Sirius were busy, bickering with each other about the best way of decorating Harry's room when a majestic phoenix Patronus swam into view. A stern voice that surprisingly belonged to Albus Dumbledore boomed out.

"Harry has been kidnapped by Pettigrew. Contact Greengrass Manor immediately. I shall meet you there."

"WHAT?" Sirius yelled out.

Remus absently shook his head.

They apparated.

* * *

Reaching Greengrass Manor, Sirius dashed to the hallway, and met a silent Cyrus Greengrass pondering over something in silence. Looking up, he wished Sirius and they left for the ritual room.

"My great aunt has been divining a ritual to trace Harry. She will be ready to reveal a destination any moment."

Sirius nodded as they reached Viridian who was busy performing silent incantations while Albus Dumbledore himself was powering the ritual with his raw power. After a few moments, the fire in the center of the ritual circle glowed green and formed a greenish mist.

"The mist has a magical signature akin to an apparition. I can copy that signature and apparate to the place shown." Dumbledore replied.

"Everyone who had tandem apparated before, hold Dumbledore by the arm." Cyrus declared.

Sirius, Remus and Cyrus held Dumbledore's hand and willed to apparate side along Dumbledore himself. With a rather large crack, the trio vanished into thin air as Viridian fell down, weary and almost unconsciousness.

"Aunt Viridian" Daphne screamed, as she reached for her to hold her back.

"Milly? Take Aunty back to her bed." She yelled.

 _Hold on Harry! Help is coming for you!_

* * *

It was a very weary Harry Potter who woke up to find himself in iron chains. His hands were hung apart, the chains tying him to a rather large piece of stone. He looked around to find himself in a severely dilapidated room, and by the sights beyond the windows, it was a muggle area, most probably a factory site. The rather creepy sounds of machines nearby confirmed his theory.

"Oh you are awake. I was wondering if I had to help you to wake up! I was dying for having some private time with my honorary nephew, Harry! After all, your dad was my best friend."

"Don't you mention my dad's name, you filth! You as much as killed them. You framed Sirius. You-"

"Not as much as killed them Harry. I killed them. It was with a great smile that I told the Dark Lord about the location of your father and your filthy Mudblood of a mother."

Harry would have had shouted in vain in this situation, had it been a year ago. However, Salazar's teachings had taught him how to be resilient and take advantage of every situation. He decided to let Peter continue with his monologue. He tried to focus on his magical core as he prepared to give another fight to save his life.

Peter must have realized what was happening. For suddenly, he smirked and called out.

"Harry, Harry, Harry... did you think you would get out of here alive by letting me monologuing away? Well sorry to disappoint, but the fun has just begun."

" _Crucio._.."

Harry screamed.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes. Everything was groggy. He could not even feel the cuts and pierces that Peter's curses had done to his form. His body was simply burning in pain. The muscles were sprained. He remembered the moments when Peter had woken him up again and again only to put him under the Crucio again and again till he had lost consciousness. His face was full of sweat beads and his upper extremities soiled with dirt and blood. He had almost lost hope. His body was paining so much that for a moment, Harry wanted to give up and die. He would perhaps meet his father and mother. He would be happy again, just like the sweet moments he had spent with Daphne.

Daphne... she had lost unconsciousness. Harry had to go back for her. But he was completely famished, soiled, and his magical energy levels were demolished to zero. He did not think he could even cast the Lumos charm if he wanted right now. But he had to escape. He had to... escape.

A sudden realization suddenly flooding his senses, he knew of one way in which he could save himself from this purgatory. He knew it was a risk but he had to take it. He closed his eyes and called in to the spirit of his animagus form. He acknowledged his animal spirit as his human mind assumed the backseat, letting the primal fury of the dire wolf come to the fore front.

* * *

Cyrus, Sirius and Albus Dumbledore landed in the midst of a muggle factory site. Sirius changed into his grim form, hoping to get a sniff of Harry's smell. Dumbledore and Cyrus both cast the _Point Me_ Charm and found a general direction where Harry could supposedly be present at the moment.

* * *

Peter was busy preparing a potion. He had learnt the potion from Severus during his service in the Dark Lord's service. The potion was a queer one, and was quite complicated to produce. The Draught of Everlasting Night, the potion rendered the victim into a state of coma until the correct antidote was administered. The victim thus, could be placed in a temporary coma that could vary from a few hours to a maximum of a year. After that, the victim normally started suffering from organ failure. A year was good time, enough for Peter to finish his search for the Dark Lord. After his Master's resurrection, he would gift him the comatose body of his apparent enemy. Peter felt giddy at the thought.

Suddenly a rather familiar bark was heard. Looking through the peep hole, Peter saw the familiar grim form of Sirius Black coming towards his house, accompanied by Albus Dumbledore. Panicking, he ran into the other room to see if his prisoner was still unconscious or not. Peter had expected a battered unconscious body of Harry Potter, but never in wildest dreams had he expected to look into the red angry eyes of an enraged dire wolf. The wolf pounced on him. Peter shook himself out of shock and fired a dark curse. The curse missed the animal by inches as it sliced Peter by the abdomen, blood and tissue dangling down to the ground where his claws had severed Peter's skin. Crying out in unendurable pain, Peter let out a howl like cry. The wolf saw its chance and dashed out of the window. After running a few kilometers, the animal fell down, panting and slowly morphed back into human form. With another cry of pain, Harry pulled out a ring from his pocket and shouted out "Domus Familia."

* * *

Hearing an unholy howl of pain, Sirius and Remus assumed the worst and broke down the door of the semi demolished house they had heard the sound coming from, only to find a bloody Peter Pettigrew, fallen on the ground and looking at them in utmost hatred. Recognizing who it was in front of him, Sirius yelled out a bone breaker, which hit the dust on the suddenly empty ground. Peter had used a portkey and escaped before the curse touched him.

"Damn!" Sirius shouted out in the empty house.

After an hour of searching, neither of the search group had found any trace of Harry. Disappointed, sad and angry, Sirius and company returned bac empty handed to Greengrass manor.

* * *

The swirling feeling and the tug at his navel stopped as Harry felt himself dropped down on what seemed to be solid ground. He was only able to glance once at Salazar's portrait just once and was very glad to see him there. Just able to look at him once, he murmured.

"Salazar... I need your help!"

Before he could speak any further, his body gave away, and he fainted.

* * *

 **## AN 1 : So we are finally back to the present. Harry is back at Salazar, though in a bad condition. It has never been my intention to create super powered Harry who would destroy his enemies right and left. Yes Harry has got some cool powers and fab animagus forms. Yes he is an elemental and yes, he is learning all sorts of cool things from his mentors. But that does not at all mean that he is over powerful. Harry is at most, comparable to a standard seventh year, who is knowledgeable in some ancient magicks.**

 **## AN 2 : My Daphne Greengrass is basically created to appear like Morgana Pendragon in Merlin Season 1. In fact, if I were to get someone play Daphne it would always be Katie McGrath. She is just the perfect Daphne according to me. er behavior, her fearful face whenever she is seeing the future in her dreams, her emotions, and even the iced look she had for Arthur. Just the perfect Daphne Greengrass.**

 **## AN 3 : Hermione Granger on the other hand, will have a behavior somewhat similar to Morgana, the dark witch in Merlin Season 5. She has her own beliefs and somehow her experiences have twisted the nature of her thoughts.**

 **##AN 4 : Yes, Hermione has got a lot of thoughts coming, and yes many of her choices are not the sanest of all. But one has to understand that she is a hormonal teenage girl, blinded by her own aspirations, her uncontrolled emotions, the situations surrounding her, her insatiable curiosity and the Confundo spell. Also, just because she took to reading a dark arts book doesn't mean she is dark. That's just like comparing a person who has had his first experience of smoking to be compared to a drug addict. Hermione will continue her foray into the dark arts, just like many teenagers get addicted to drugs and narcotics. But that does not necessarily make her bad or evil.. I hope you get my point.**


	31. ROTD 31 : A Favor to return

_He needed the boy here. But he had looked at his face and acted out of sympathy and emotion and agreed in his one-month vacation. At least the boy would return back by the full moon. He would need to increase the-_

 _An almost silent pop broke him out of his reveries. The boy, his descendant was here. But it was too early. He had not expected him to arrive at least in the next seven days. Not that he would complain. But something was wrong. Harry, his heir was looking completely flustered, his eyes red with lack of sleep and rest, and his face revealing his inner turmoil._

 _"Harry?"_

 _"Salazar... I need your help!"_

 _Harry fainted._

* * *

"Harry? Harry? Wake up boy, what's happened to you?" Salazar shouted out from his portrait. He knew he could not do anything in his portrait form, and he had to come up with something else. There was one way, but he did not want to take that path. He knew he would have to break his own set rules but desperate situations called for desperate measures, and his heir, lying down unconscious before him was one such situation. He looked back at his descendant and saw a pool of red forming beneath his fallen body.

Blood?

Salazar made his mind. Rules be damned, he had to act now!

 _Gan y p_ _ŵ_ _er a freiniwyd gan y Arcana, yr wyf yn barnu fy ysbryd rhwym i realms marwol._

 _Gan y p_ _ŵ_ _er a freiniwyd gan y Arcana, yr wyf yn barnu fy ysbryd rhwym i realms marwol._

 _Gan y p_ _ŵ_ _er a freiniwyd gan y Arcana, yr wyf yn barnu fy ysbryd rhwym i realms marwol._

 _Liga animam meam in aeternum_ _..._

The portrait chanted. There was a flash of dazzling white light and the portrait vanished, leaving behind an empty canvas frame. The air around the canvas stirred, as an ancient force drove its way into the mortal realms. Where the portrait of Salazar Slytherin had stood, beside the grand opening, stood a pale white, translucent manifestation of an individual, the thirty first master of Forbidden arte, Salazar Slytherin himself. Muttering to himself as doomed to be a ghost for eternity now, he walked up to his descendant and lifted him using wandless magic. Placing him on a table in the chamber, he called for Harry's house elf, Dobby.

* * *

Dobby had been serving at the kitchens, busy preparing food with the rest of the Hogwarts elves. The elf's life had changed drastically in the last couple of months. He had always wanted to serve Harry Potter and had bonded himself to Harry Potter, without his Harry Potter Sir knowing it. But Dobby could not be more surprised when his master Harry Potter had actually called for him and offered him to work for him. His master Harry Potter sir had inherited multiple lordships and needed elves to look after them. Dobby was beside himself with excitement at getting his secret desire fulfilled. It had been a rather excited Dobby that had automatically clung to his master's leg, crying in happiness. Although Harry Potter sir had directly ordered him not to call him master, but he had not ordered Dobby to not address him master mentally. In other words, Dobby was happy. His master was presently away with Miss Greengrassy, but he would soon return. And Dobby would be able to serve his master to his heart's content again. "Dobby!" Dobby felt someone call his name, and all of a sudden, he felt a pang in his chest. His master was hurt in some way. Following the call of the magic that addressed him, the tiny elf popped away.

* * *

Dobby popped into the Chamber of Secrets to see the ghost of Salazar Slytherin standing before a battered body of Harry Potter, whispering incantations softly. He almost shouted out in surprise, but then softly asked.

"Harry Potter Sir's teacher is now a ghost?"

Salazar smirked at the house elf's innocent query. He turned back to the elf and addressed, "Yes I am. Now I need you to do a favor for your master."

The elf nodded. Nobody had ever asked him for favors. Wizard kind did not like to have favors done to them by house elves. His parents had told him of the times when High elves did favors for wizards. But house elves, a cursed descendant of the ancient High elves, were looked down by the wizards. To be asked for a favor, it was completely byzantine to Dobby's mind.

"What favor? Mr. Slytherin ghost sir?"

Salazar chuckled at the manner the elf addressed him. He looked at the elf in the eye and commanded. "I want you to heal your master using elfin magic. He has been struck by a blood boiling curse, and no wizard magic can stop that curse from running its course. You can name your price later on."

"Harry Potter Sir hit by nasty Blood curse?"

"yes."

"Dobby will heal him. Dobby will."

"So mote it be." Salazar chanted.

A flash of light later, Dobby walked up to his master and held the battered body in his little arms. Closing his eyes, he started chanting and whispering in a strange language, which not even Salazar could comprehend. The more the elf chanted, the more the air around them shivered, and the body of the _fallen_ Harry Potter continued to glow. After what seemed an eternity, thee glow lessened and the elf released his master's body.

 _The elf_ turned back to look at the ghost who had asked him for a favor. Looking at him, eye to eye, he spoke in a strange croaked voice, even by Dobby's usual standards.

" _Wizard, your favor has been done. Now remember to keep your word when the Time comes_."

Salazar looked back at me, and in the same intimidating manner, spoke back, " _I will. So mote it be._ "

 _"_ _so mote it be."_ _The elf_ chanted.

 _The elf_ then slowly loosened his stiff posture, until _the elf_ was Dobby again.

"Did everything happen correctly, Mr. Slytherin ghost sir?"

"yes." Salazar replied. "yes, it did."

* * *

After an hour, the body of a now sleeping Harry Potter stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and he gained consciousness. After an indeterminate amount of time, he woke up, slowly and in surprise, at the lack of pain that he was expecting to accompany his movement. His body on the contrary, seemed to be as new and in health as ever. In fact, he had not felt this much better since the cleansing ritual. Wiping his palm on his blurry eyes, he looked around. He was sitting on the library table of the Chamber of Secrets and before him was an empty portrait of his master. He briefly wondered where his master had been to, when a rather familiar voice called him from behind.

"So you are awake?"

Turning faster than he expected he could, Harry blanched in shock at the now translucent ghost form of his mentor.

"Master...?"

"You were dying. I was unable to help in my portrait form. So... I had to do this to myself."

"But ...how..."

"That, my boy, is a tale for another time. Preferably when we have lots of time to spend and relax. Understand that I will be here from now on and will now be more proactive in your training. But before all that, tell me. What happened to you?"

After almost an hour of Harry explaining the story of what happened, to Salazar followed by swift questions from his mentor pertaining to Harry's tale, Harry helped himself to a glass of water that Salazar had conjured.

"How did you..." he asked, looking blankly at the rather nonchalant way in which Salazar used wandless magic, and importantly, used magic at all.

"How did I use magic? You will see my boy, that while ghost and other impressions cannot use wands, nothing stops them from using wandless magic. Ghosts are after all, an imprint of a wizard's soul and magic, that is left back in the mortal realms, after said wizard's unexpected death. I had my portrait, and I had a few jobs left here on earth to complete, but your condition demanded more than I was capable of in my portrait form. So... here I am." He ended with his hands spread outward like a showman of some sort.

"Well... not that I have any idea how you achieved that feat... but welcome back. I guess."

"Why thank you my heir. Now you should get going back to your new family who must be frantic with worry about you. You do remember you need to return back soon right?"

"Yes. I shall return back as quickly as possible. By the way, what are we going to do when I return."

"All kinds of things Harry." Salazar said conspiratorially. "All kinds of _interesting_ things."

* * *

Dobby popped Harry to Greengrass manor. Harry found that he surprisingly preferred house elf express over other conventional means of wizarding transport. No nausea, no tugs, no falling down, no irrationally fast bus, no Floo powder and no smoky fireplaces. House elf popping was much more quick and fast, and led to no headaches or anything. Why elves did not begin providing transport service to wizards was completely strange to Harry.

Entering Greengrass manor, he called for Daphne, hoping she might be there. Hearing Harry's voice, and finding him standing in front of her, Daphne lost all her pureblood bounds and almost leaped upon him, pinning him to the wall, kissing him aggressively. After what seemed to be almost a couple of minutes, she removed her lips from Harry's and forced herself into his chest, crying her heart out.

"I'm sorry Harry. ...I am so, so sorry! I failed you again. I hurt you. I-"

"Daphne?" Harry tried to soothe her." I'm fine."

"Prongslet?"

Harry looked up, surprised to find a teary eyed Sirius standing before him.

"Sirius?" He glanced beyond him and saw Remus and the Headmaster standing behind Sirius, all smiling at him. He could see the relief in Dumbledore's eyes as he stood waiting to talk to him.

"We were worried about you, son. I thought I had failed you again!" Sirius replied in a sorrowful voice.

"I am okay. I really am."

"Harry my boy. Would you indulge an old man for a few moments?"

"sure Professor!"

Harry followed Dumbledore to a guest room and waited for him to speak.

"My boy, you have no idea how relieved I am to see you fine and in health. I know I have failed you many time in the past, but despite that, you have grown into a young man your parents would be proud of!"

"thanks professor! But... if you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"

"Lord Greengrass sent me a Patronus informing me of your kidnapping. I sent for Remus and Sirius. We divined a ritual to get your location and went out to search for it. Eventually, we did find a rather injured Peter Pettigrew sprawled on the floor."

Harry raised his eyes to say something but Dumbledore stopped him with a hand gesture. "Pettigrew, however injured he may be, was able to escape with the help of a portkey as it turns out. We could not find any trace of you but looking at Pettigrew, we figured that you might have escaped somehow. We were about to raise a mass search party had you not returned back here as you did."

"um... Thanks professor. I appreciate the gesture."

"You are welcome Mr. Potter, or should I say, Lord Potter, or perhaps Slytherin?" He replied with a wink.

Harry's face turned slightly pink as if he had been caught in an indecent wrongdoing, but he schooled his emotions quickly, something Dumbledore did notice.

"don't worry Harry, we shall talk about that later. For now, if you would be kind enough to tell what exactly happened to you..."

"That's something we would all like to hear." He heard Cyrus commenting.

 _Hmmm... let's get this over as well..._

He retold them the entire story. How he found that Daphne was imperiused by Pettigrew, how Harry had fallen off his broomstick, how he had fallen to Daphne's spell. He also mentioned with great detail how Daphne fought off Peter's Imperius, and how she fell unconscious. He talked about the torture he had suffered at that dilapidated place. How he had escaped by morphing into his wolf form. He narrowly avoided portkeying into the Chamber and Salazar's intervention.

"How did you heal yourself Harry?" Dumbledore asked sharply.

"I called for Dobby. It was him that healed me."

"The Malfoy's elf?"

"The very same. He is... bonded to me, and could come to me immediately."

"Well... that is good and all, but I would prefer Madam Pomfrey to run some tests on you, just to see if everything is normal. House elf healing, is not ... conventional after all." Dumbledore told him, giving him a pointed look, the one that said "Do not lie to me. I shall find out everything."

"Sure. Sir."

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the day with Daphne, who was still having a hard time forgiving herself for attacking Harry and almost killing him. It had taken both Harry and her mom Victoria together to convince her that she had not failed Harry. Victoria had explained her that the Imperius curse was a very powerful one, and many elder and wiser wizards could not break out of the curse. She told her that Daphne should be proud of herself that she managed to successfully break the curse. It took another hour of convincing and a bit more of kissing on Harry's part that Daphne began behaving normally; well as normal as could be expected. Sirius and Remus had decided to bring in their respective gifts. Harry was absolutely delighted to receive a Firebolt of all things, and also sad that his beloved broomstick had exploded to pieces by the action of the blasting curse. Wishing Harry, a good day and telling him to keep things slow, the pair left.

Harry spent another couple of days with the Greengrasses. The new year was a silent celebration, with Harry and Daphne spending it together, snogging in peace in Daphne's bedroom. They had made it certain that they would stay in limits and make sure nothing untoward happened. It was blissful, having Daphne in his arms, the feel of her, sniffing her flowery perfume and kissing her soft lips which tended to melt in his mouth. He decided that after all was said and done, the betrothal was a good thing in his life, albeit forced. He had never dreamt that someday, he would be falling hard and fast for the cold and calculating Slytherin girl. However, now that he was, he would not change it for anything. The course of events that brought them together was no doubt baffling and unusual, but he would just not have it any other way.

After the first week of the new year was over, Harry wished the family and went off for his "family business", as he had stated when Cyrus had asked where he intended to go. Personally, he kissed Daphne and told her that he would see her directly at Kings Cross for the Express. With a smile on his lips, he called for his faithful elf who popped him away.

* * *

 **## Next up, the rituals and return to Hogwarts after the holidays.**

 **Review!**


	32. ROTD 32 : The ritual

**### Sorry for the delay in the updates. I was working on a review of the last chapters, and will be soon republishing the previous chapters with some editing done on them. Please read and enjoy. Reviews please!**

* * *

 _"_ _You do know what is coming! And yet you do not destroy the Veil. I just don't understand your reasoning."_

 _The beautiful woman in front of him fumed. She always seemed to grow more pretty when she was angry. Her emerald eyes and her rosy lips were always a distraction, in ways more than one for him. He knew he could not tell her the truth, but he could not stop her midway either. To face an angry Evolette when she was determined... Bah! Facing a dragon was a lot easier._

 _"_ _The Veil must be allowed to exist till His time comes to pass." He countered softly._

 _"_ _But what if ... you were warned by the Ghost... weren't you?" She asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously._

 _"_ _I was." He replied, keeping an emotionless expression on his face._

 _"_ _My family will not survive... and when the people find about the castle, they will not stop to consider. Everything here will be destroyed, and the gates to Chaos shall be broken."_

 _"_ _If it helps, I can bear the secret of the castle to my grave." Salazar replied calmly, looking at her in the eye._

 ** _And then carry it after my death for all eternity until the time comes..._**

 _"_ _So be it. I shall arrange matters. You are a good man, Salazar. Let no one tell you differently."_

* * *

Salazar Slytherin was many things, but a person to refute his own promises, he was not. He had known the ramifications of staying back as a ghost, he had known what would happen should he transmute the eldritch energies of his ghost self into his portraits. He knew that as a member of the illusion master's guild, his portrait would have to exist voluntarily till the time the Chaos Dimension hung like a shadow over the mortal realms. He had known that it meant that his ghost self would never get to move on, and would never be able to meet his lovely Evolette. She would have to settle to wait for him forever beyond death. However, now was not the time for nostalgia. He had to prepare his heir for hid blood awakening. Gathering the supplies, he had gathered, he waited for his heir to arrive.

* * *

With a near silent pop, Harry Potter appeared into the inner hall of the Chamber of Secrets. It was time for undertaking the ritual that his master had all but ordered him to undergo. Although he did not know what the ritual exactly did, he had high hopes he would know all about it before attempting the ritual.

"Oh! You have arrived!" A rather snarky voice boomed in the background.

 _And the sarcastic Slytherin returns!_

"Yes."

"Good for you. Come into the antechamber. You shall perform the ritual outside." His mentor ordered.

"What exactly does this ritual do Master?"

"Let's just say that it will sharpen your magical potency and leave it to that. More when we are done performing the ritual." Salazar finished, leaving no room for argument.

Nodding in resignation, Harry removed himself from the inner room to reach the antechamber.

 _My first foray into Ancient magicks..._

"Anything that can go wrong in this ritual?" Harry asked, better to be forewarned of any difficulty than to face it later.

"Not unless you draw the runic circles wrong, or if the ritual gets disrupted in the middle. Although, considering where we are, the possibilities are almost zero." His master intoned.

"Well... here goes nothing!" Harry etched three runic circles on the floor and a triangle in the center tangential to the three circles. His mentor had basically drilled the ritual steps into him the previous day when he had arrived there after leaving the Greengrasses. He had to one again, go out for collecting a few ingredients that he would require for successful completion of the ritual. It was a new experience, entering the murkier parts of Diagon Alley, for the ingredients he required.

"Understand that this ritual is going to activate the magical potency of your blood to a superlative level. So you shall need to shed a significant amount of blood for this, and make sure that you completely intend on sacrificing your blood under your own free will for the sake of this ritual." Salazar commanded.

"What's the difference?" Harry questioned.

"Rituals are an extension of esoteric magicks, and hence heavily dependent on emotion. Emotions, desires and subconscious feelings often complicate an otherwise simple ritual to render the results into something unexpected."

 _Yes, and that would be so terrible!_

"Okay." Harry nodded. He drew out his wand and with a methodical wave, etched out a perfect rune circle on the floor. Once he was done, he attempted the second one and consecutively the third and the triangle. Finally done, he released the breath he hadn't known he was holding till then.

"Good enough!" His mentor commented. "The circles shall have a _Stadha_ rune, a _Fehu_ rune and an _Uruz_ rune in anticlockwise fashion with the Asphodel, Hellebore and Kingsblood in their centres respectively. You shall need to shed fresh blood and let it flow along the etched rune circles."

Harry took a moment to grasp the meaning of the runic configuration he had drawn. _Stadha_ was for creation and destruction, rejuvenation and magical potency. Asphodel, on the other hand, a widely used ingredient in necromancy. _Fehu_ , he rune for fire, power, and purification. Hellebore, a plant with purifying properties. Harry could see where this was going.

 _Uruz_... the rune of strength, mysticism, volatility and cosmic manifestation. Kingsblood, a powerful poison and yet a more powerful immunizing agent. Harry could not help but wonder the combined effects of the various substances he had used so far.

The circles glowed with eldritch energies as Harry shed blood out of his palm and let it flow out into the runic circles. Despite feeling a little jaded after losing the significant amount of blood, Harry waited for the next set of instructions.

"Now drop seven drops of Basilisk blood into each of the circles. When you are done, leave your wand outside and enter the triangle. You might feel a bit of dizziness but it is part of the job. Try not to fight the energies as they enter your body."

Harry did as asked, and performed as said. The basilisk blood almost vaporized into a purple mist of energy on touching the glowing runic circles. The three factions of the energized mists fused into a circle and contracted suddenly into his body. He could feel the sudden influx of energies into his nerves, merging with his magical reserves. For a moment, his body glowed and Harry was sure he was about to burst out into morsels of flesh due to over influx of energies, but then, his eyes glowed golden and his body levitated an inch above the ground.

He could hear his mentor shouting out, "The incantation, NOW!"

 _"_ _puritatem sanguis revelare_ _..."_

Harry intoned loudly, shutting his eyes.

A dazzling light manifested, and a guttural sound which oddly seemed to be a combination of a hiss and a roar boomed out. When the mist cleared out, the runic circles had vanished, leaving behind an unconscious Harry Potter on the floor.

Levitating his young heir up and placing him over a rapidly transfigured bed, Salazar Slytherin let out his first breath of relief.

"Rest well, young heir. You have a long day tomorrow."

 _Step one... Success._

* * *

Harry eyes fluttered open. His first thought was that he was dead. His memories were still blurry. He could remember energies gushing into his body, the energies taking over his consciousness, his nerves flaying in pain, his eyes blazing out with an energy the likes of which he had never felt. There was a dazzling light, and he remembered hearing something akin to a dragon's roar. He heard someone incanting some sort of command in Parseltongue. He remembered losing control over his senses, followed by pitch black darkness.

The library of the Chamber of Secrets slowly came into focus. Sitting up and realizing that his arms were fatigued like hell, he tried to get up, failing again and again. After what seemed like the fifth time, he successfully sat up straight and transfigured a cane for himself. Supporting himself on the cane, he slowly walked out, hoping to meet his mentor in the antechamber.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Oh! You survived!" came Salazar's rather snarky reply.

"Were you always like this or did your changing into a ghost from a portrait increase your sarcastic speech?" Harry countered back.

Salazar smirked in reply. "I'm sure you want to know what happened last day."

"The thought did pass in my mind." Harry deadpanned.

"I will make a perfect Slytherin out of you yet, Potter! Back to context, the ritual as I said last day, increases the magical potency of your blood to a superlative level. If you must know, the ritual activated your magical affinities."

"Some of that, _appeared useful_ for my understanding."

Muttering darkly about cheeky brats, Salazar continued. "Every wizard has his own magical affinities towards different magical arts. You may have heard some witches or wizards are known as prodigies of their craft. That usually happens when said witch or wizard delves into a subject in which they have a strong affinity with. Usually if you do not have any affinity towards a particular subject, you shall find it irrationally difficult to do well in it. What this specific ritual does for you, is activate your magical affinities. From today you shall work in different magical arts, and figure out your affinities."

"Great! Why isn't this ritual more publically available to all?" Harry could not help asking.

"Well, now that you ask, this ritual that you performed, was basically an alteration of the original ritual, something that I devised only for you. This deviation would require a cleansed magical core to work with, something I had previously made you do. The original ritual, isn't all that happy and fulfilling like the one you performed on yourself."

"As in?" Harry questioned.

"The original blood awakening ritual, also known as the _Suscitare Sanguinis_ ritual, is a double edged sword, and for the same reason was it outlawed by the Wizengamot. The ritual when performed, blessed the practitioner with a sturdy set of Occlumency shields, and awakened magical affinities. The setback was that, the arts for which the practitioner did not have affinity for, would then become incredibly more difficult for him to perform. Say you do not have an affinity for Transfiguration, then after the ritual, transfiguration would become incredibly more difficult for you to master than it was before you performed the ritual. Hence, the modification."

Harry gulped. He was relieved to know that he would not face problems mastering the magical arts, affinity or not.

"Thank you. Master."

Salazar nodded. "Now, we need to make sure that you perform at least six more rituals on yourself this very year. Magick loves the number seven, and rituals effectively utilize the arithmantic powers of the number seven. We shall see that you get to perform seven different rituals which are irrevocably linked to each other, giving you maximum advantage. I will not allow my heir to fall into another life or death situation."

"I am sorry I disappointed you, Master."

"You did. You were being trained in higher magical arts and you did not take care not to fall from hubris. In your arrogance, you underestimated the cunning of the death eater. Understand that it was shoddy luck on your part that saved your life." Salazar conveniently forgot to mention that Harry had been hit by a blood boiling curse and would have died if not for Salazar and Dobby's intervention.

"Yes. You had your moment of arrogance and that led to your downfall. I hope you have learnt enough not to ignore hubris next time. Now go into the Room of Requirement and practice the various magical arts I taught you. Do not return until you have figured out your personal magical affinities."

* * *

Peter Pettigrew woke up from his troubled sleep, cause of his waking up being the pain he felt in his bowels. That damned boy. He had completely forgotten that Harry Potter was a wolf animagus. He had fired a blood boiling curse back at his captive but to seemingly no avail. The infernal creature had escaped and Peter had fallen to the floor, his intestines and blood pouring out of his bowels, making Peter feel a pain the likes of which he had never experienced. He figured that staying as a rat for over a decade had perhaps made him more vulnerable and flabby. Yes, that must be it. And even then, he would have figured something out if not for that blasted Black, who just had to enter the shack at that very moment. Thankfully he had a predesigned portkey created for contingencies. The one which he had used to transport him into a ramshackle shack at Spinner's end, the residence of his friend and death-eater-in-arms, Severus Snape.

* * *

Severus Snape had felt someone enter through the wards of his rather dilapidated shack he had inherited from his muggle father after his death. He had his eyes on the massive Prince Manor but with the unfortunate demise of the Dark Lord, that desire had not manifested itself into reality. Severus had apparated immediately to his residence and found an injured Peter Pettigrew holding himself up using a table for support. Being a man of few words, he decided healing Pettigrew was of a higher priority than knowing the details that caused his injury.

There was a reason Severus Snape was regarded as one of the premier potion masters of magical Britain. He was the youngest wizard to claim a mastery in potions, and if he was true with himself, he was equally proficient in the dark arts as well. He had completed a year in mediwizardry before the Dark Lord had taken him under his direct wing and had taken to teaching him the dark arts. At least, his one-year experience as a mediwizard could be of help in saving the life of one wizard he counted as at least an ally. Summoning the required potions, he began his treatment of his ally.


	33. ROTD 33 : A narrow escape

_"_ _Annihilo! Excindo! Mortifico!"_

The offensive spell chains hurled out of Harry's wand and splashed against the dummies, blasting them out right and left, tearing them into pieces, often bludgeoning them into morsels. The reparative functions on them, aided by the Room of Requirement's magic, would recreate and mend them back to normal again. And the process of annihilation continued.

 _"_ _Praefligo! Obtero!"_ Harry swished his wand in random flicks, propelling the curses out on the dummies again and again. A round of blasting, followed by piercing and bludgeoning, and the process would renew itself from the start.

 ** _"_** ** _Crucio!" Peter whispered as Harry let out a grating scream, his muscles now over fatigued and in sprain. He had no idea how much longer he would be able to hold on and not succumb into unconsciousness._**

"Attero!" Harry swished his wand as two dummies fell down, leaving behind only three dummies standing. The Room would procure them soon enough.

 _I let Pettigrew get away on the first chance. I let him get a surprise shot on me because I was blinded by my arrogance. I could have finished him in the first round, but I played with him. Daphne had to suffer because of me. Peter got away...AGAIN! because of me!_

 ** _"_** ** _Do you know how the Dark Lord tortured your mudblood mother Harry? Did you know how she screamed? Just like you will scream now... Crucio!"_**

 _"_ _Imprimis fulminata!"_ Harry roared, a wave of lightning spewing out of his wand as it crashed against the newly formed dummies, obliterating each and every one of the them. The chamber shook with the force of Harry's spell, as the wall shattered and lay in ruins, only to be reformed back later. Panting, he fell on his knees, struggling to keep up, in spite of his body being completely exhausted.

There was a sharp sound outside that attracted his attention. He felt a magical foray radiate into the Room as he felt someone trying to cross the wards of the Room of Requirement. Hastily clearing out the Room by thinking it empty, Harry waved his wand over his head and with a flick, whispered, _"_ _calamitatis_ _"_ _._

* * *

 **Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts.**

Albus Dumbledore was many things, but a fool he was not. He knew that there were many events happening in the wizarding world under his very nose. Importantly, events surrounding one Harry James Potter. Lord Potter and Lord Slytherin, and perhaps an heir to the Black Lordship if Sirius had his way. A year ago, he would have perhaps tried his level best to prevent the young Potter from even associating with the Wizengamot. He knew what kind of political sharks swam along those seas. It was only his status as Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts that he was able to steer through the political shams and games keeping a rather neutral stance. He knew he should have been more proactive in the political deals and legislature but at the same time, he also knew that the very seat he held imprisoned him away, from taking any drastic action. While he was among the most venerated wizarding celebrities, his House was just a common one, albeit one that attained its nobility status more as a tribute to his victory over Grindelwald. As Chief Warlock he was entitled to legal powers but as a nominal head only. The real legislature was carried out by Fudge who was deep into the pockets of one Lucius Malfoy, a political shark if ever was one. An ancient family, with lots of old money and connections, Lucius Malfoy was a quintessential Slytherin, and Dumbledore often felt that the man had more victories to his score for the Pureblood propaganda than Tom Riddle ever had. The dark families and most of the neutral ones, more than often, sided with the bills that Malfoy introduced in the Wizengamot sessions. The most that Albus Dumbledore could do was to incorporate a few laws that promoted some amount of protection and help for the muggleborn part of Wizarding Britain. This was essentially what the status quo stood at the Wizengamot until the previous session held on the Winter solstice.

There was a new Lord of Slytherin and it was no less than Harry Potter himself. A fourteen-year-old, having the Lordships of two most Ancient and Noble Houses, more political power than Dumbledore had ever acquired in his lifetime. Twenty-five votes, seven from the Potter side, eleven from the Slytherin side, and also joined in the game was the Black Lordship headed by Sirius Black who had effectively sided with his godson, no questions asked. Seven votes from the Black House, a total strength of twenty-five, a minor block on their own. And then Greengrass had joined the coalition, bringing with him his own seven votes and his allies that brought eight votes on their own. The new neutral alliance, spearheaded by Lord Cyrus Greengrass would be a massive strong hold in the Wizengamot. The tilt had shifted, with Harry Potter in the fundamental center of the shift. The funny thing was, no one could see what was coming. Dumbledore had to cough in order to prevent his mirth from expressing itself. No one knew who the Lord Slytherin was, save Dumbledore and of course, the Greengrasses and Sirius Black. Everyone had been perturbed when the Ancient Houses of Black, Slytherin and Greengrass stood under the Neutral banner. A predominantly dark family like Black, and the master dark family like the venerable Slytherin House, to shift to neutral ground...it was pandemonium. For the first time, chaos had been a reason for a true smile to appear on Albus Dumbledore's face. Harry Potter had played the ultimate prank on Wizarding Britain.

But that was not all. Harry Potter had been captured by Peter Pettigrew and tortured for days. And yet, Harry had somehow overthrown his captor and overpowered him enough to escape, and miraculously turned up without a scratch on him. Even if his story was supposed to be believed, the healing part did not make sense. House elves were many things, but effective healers they were not. They were after all, cursed descendants of the High Elves, the great healers during the time of Albion. It was intractable that a house elf of all creatures managed to treat a wizard so efficiently. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that Harry Potter had efficient Occlumency shields. It was rather surprising how quickly the boy had drastically improved ever since his foray into the..." Dumbledore paled at the thought... " _Chamber of Secrets_."

Harry Potter had changed since his encounter with Riddle in the Chamber. While he would not complain about the fact that the new and improved Potter heir was living up to his expectations, Harry's growth was surprisingly much more quick than was normal by any standard. Filius and Minerva could testify to the fact. The boy had surprising potency for a fourteen-year-old. He was already familiarizing himself with Auror level spells if what Filius had told him was correct. And also he was an animagus, with a magical form to boot. Although Minerva had kept away from revealing his form, she did tell him that the boy had a magical form apart from the wolf form. Dumbledore could not remember viewing any memories of the happenings of the Chamber when he had tried to browse the boy's surface thoughts after the incident, but he did remember a certain inky blackness in his mind, hiding the memories of the Chamber from external attacks. Perhaps there was something about the Chamber that was involved in Harry's changes, and Dumbledore had to find out what it was. It would not do to lose the young Potter to the effects of the diary or the Chamber. Harry was a ... conundrum. He very consciously kept away from calling the young Potter a ... _riddle._

He needed to have Poppy have a check up on him after he returned back to school after the Holidays. It was essential to have him monitored to an extent. His muggle relatives were bad, Dumbledore would give him that, but at least he had Harry monitored and safe from external forces. He knew the boy hated manipulation, but it was necessary. The horcrux in him, how he hated that abomination, could have adverse effects on Harry and Dumbledore could not let that happen. The horcrux could not be removed from Harry's body without killing him, but it could be contained. He would have to figure out a way to counteract the effects of the horcrux. Harry Potter deserved a happy life, and Dumbledore would be damned if he could not provide him with that.

 _At least till the boy lived._

* * *

A small wave of magic caused his artifacts to tinker about, shaking him from his reveries.

What had happened? It was the Holidays and the Weasley twins were not in the castle. Normally such waves of magical bombardment came out due to their boisterous activities but this time, the magnitude was larger than ever. It was only because of the sentient nature of the castle that the bombarding energy was dissipated effectively. But Dumbledore had to find out the origin of the disturbance. He concentrated on his hold of the school wards and located the spot where the wards had taken a heavy beating. Surprisingly, it was on the seventh floor. No one went there. Curious, Dumbledore held out his hand and Fawkes came soaring in, his golden wings touching his companion's hand as they vanished away amidst golden flames.

Reappearing on the seventh floor, he used his magical senses to radiate out and figure out the origin of the disturbance. Strangely, the wall was almost masking the magical signature of the source of the disturbance. Figuring it out as some sort of secret room, Dumbledore tried to channel his magical intent as the Headmaster, and the wall gave way. A shining blue door appeared out of the blue, surprising the Headmaster. With a strong hold, he turned the knob to open the door.

The room was empty.

In fact, it was _horribly_ empty. There was absolutely nothing. Not even a speckle of dirt anywhere. No chairs, no benches, just a blank clean room. Dumbledore had never seen something so _unnaturally clean_ in his life. Radiating his senses out, he delved into the magic of the room. There was an intent hovering in the entire room. An intent, so magically powerful, that it prevented even a single layer of dirt from gathering in the room. To check his theory, Dumbledore conjured some rubble out of thin air, and in a flash, the contents disappeared.

 _No wizard could have done this. The intent... is it a part of Hogwarts's sentience?_

Dumbledore mused as he twirled his hand around his fingers.

* * *

 _Calamitatis_ _._ The Disillusionment Charm. A charm that Harry had taken a week to master. One of the hardest of the Charms spells, often compared to the Patronus, the disillusionment charm was one tough spell to master. It effectively masked a person's magical presence away from light, making him almost invisible. Almost being the keyword. A person moving under the charm would be nothing more than barely a ripple in the air. Camouflage at its best. It had nothing on Harry's invisibility cloak, that was for granted, but it was handy, and an excellent skill to have when it came to espionage. Not many wizards could claim true mastery of the spell but Harry had, under Salazar Slytherin's mentoring and direction.

It felt good to sneak up behind the Headmaster and yet remain out of his knowledge. Harry remembered the incident over Christmas in his first year. He had never seen Dumbledore hidden, when he had come and sat in front of the mirror to spend some time looking at his parents. He remembered the words the Headmaster had told him. It was ironical that their positions were almost reversed now. Harry could not stop himself from thinking out.

 _I do not need a cloak to become invisible, Headmaster._

He saw Dumbledore raise his wand, a very fancy wand no doubt what with all that _beads all along the shaft,_ it complimented the venerable wizard and his prodigious skill. He saw Dumbledore conjure random stuff out of the air. Harry faced an attack on his intent, and focused with all his power on a single thought... _Empty the room._

His magic surged, more than what was necessary, and fueled his intent. The conjured things vanished out of sight in a flash, and Harry hoped that his luck would not run out. The disillusionment charm was a tad difficult to keep on, especially because it consumed a lot of magic to keep it active. He was nearly out of magical reserves; what he needed right now was time... _Time._

 _The time turner._

Trying to limit his movements to the minimum, he slowly tried to access the device in his robes. Five hours should do the job. He was here since almost four hours anyway. Keeping his magic focused on his intent, he groped his robes for the time turner.

* * *

Dumbledore could not help himself from smiling. There was a person in the room. A wizard, if he was correct, especially one with a deep focus and knowledge on intent based magic. Not something a student would be capable of. There was a trespasser in his school, right under his nose. His trick at conjuring rubble had been successful. He had noticed a magical upsurge driving the intent that cleared the room of his conjured stuff. And that was all he needed. A Room, even if it was a part of a sentient castle like Hogwarts, could not have provided two simultaneous magical surges at the same time. And that too, to power the same intent. Someone was in the room, hiding under the cover of a perfectly cast disillusionment charm.

Dumbledore laughed out in mirth. And then he suddenly spoke out.

"You know; it was a good obscuration. Really admirable. But a word from a wise and experienced wizard, magical rooms do not give out multiple magical discharges to fuel the same intent. That gave you away, whoever you are. So, reveal yourself." He commanded.

Harry had just reached the device when he felt Dumbledore addressing him. Hearing about the magical discharge, he felt like kicking himself for not thinking properly. Very slowly, he began to flit through the dials of the turner.

"Very well..." The Headmaster stood at his fullest height, and focused his magical intent as he whispered. " _Homenum revelio"._ A magical presence around ten feet of him was revealed to his eyes.

Harry felt the magical foray identify his presence and simultaneously felt the waves of chronomantic magic envelop him, forming a cocoon around himself.

A sudden burst of magical energy hurled out of the Headmaster's wand but suddenly there was a dazzling light that intercepted the spell. A moment later, the light faded out, leaving no residue behind. Dumbledore cast the spell a few times again, but this time, to no effect.

The room was empty.


	34. ROTD 34 : Intricacies

Harry Potter appeared in an empty hallway. Nobody was there.

 _Where am I?_

The hallway was completely empty. Not a soul was anywhere. Harry walked down the hallway, hoping to find someone, anyone at all. But there was no one. He even expanded his senses outward, but nothing reached out to him. No magical wards, no obstructions at all. It was as if the castle had become devoid of magic.

 _I was supposed to be in the Room of Requirement. Did something go wrong? Though, knowing my luck, that is not something unexpected!_

Roaming around the halls for some time, he finally entered what was normally the Transfiguration third years' classroom. It was completely devoid of anything magical. Just the table, the desks and benches, and nothing else. It was completely... mundane.

 _Where the hell am I?_

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stood in silence, trying to figure out what had happened. When the revealing spell had revealed the presence of the trespasser, he was confident that he was in control of the situation. He had rapidly fired off a blasting curse off at his opponent. He had witnessed the dazzling light emerge out of nowhere. His original thought was that the light was due to some obscure magical shield that his opponent had used to defend himself. But the revealing spell he had cast later on, showed complete absence of any magical person in the room. The wizard had vanished. Apparation was impossible, and so was use of portkeys. Even if the wizard was powerful enough to blast through the wards, Dumbledore would have felt it. And he had felt _absolutely_ nothing. The room was closed and no one could have left the room. The wards he had set up silently had ensured that.

It was as if the trespasser had simply gotten obliterated from existence.

And that too, due to a blasting curse.

It made no sense. None at all.

He had to figure out what happened. Calling for Fawkes, he awaited the arrival of his faithful companion.

* * *

A small noise brought Harry out of his reveries. There was something nearby. His wand returning to his hand from his holster with a flick, he walked ahead to face whatever lay before him. Perhaps he was not completely alone here after all.

A foggy stream of magic came rushing at him from his left. His survival instincts on high alert, he shoved himself to his right as the magical wave almost brushed against him. Dropping on the floor, he fired a high powered _Confringo_ towards the magical wave, or whatever that thing actually was.

The spell passed right through the wave.

 _Crap._

The wave returned back at him with a resounding fury. Knowing that his offensive spells were of no use, he thrusted his wand forward and conjured a powerful metal shield.

" _Duro_ ". Harry added for benefit. It would provide some extra durability to the shield. Bracing himself for an impact, he stood his ground.

The magical wave collided with the shield. A resounding gong boomed through the hallway. A shaken Harry Potter was hurled away and his back hit the wall, falling down with a thud. He cursed the fact that his reserves were almost depleted at worst, and low at best. First the ritual's aftermath, then the spell practice, and then the over-extended disillusionment charm, and now this.

 _Could the day have gotten any worse?_

The wave was returning back at him, with a certain fury in its movement.

 _Shouldn't have asked!_

* * *

Salazar Slytherin had just returned after a rather heated discussion with some ex-members of the Illusion Masters' guild. He found it rather ironical that while He was vilified as a torturer and dark lord throughout magical Britain, with that usurper flaying his ideologies right and left; his school House reduced to being a dark mirror of HufflePuff, where people were bigots of every kind; it was Salazar himself who was trying to save the world from its approaching doom while his fellow colleagues and juniors, many of which came from Godric's uber-noble House, were behaving like close minded fools. As it was, he was having a hard time not cursing their portraits blank.

His heir had been gone for over five hours now, and had not returned back. His orders had been specific. Harry was not to return until he had figured out his affinities. He hoped his heir had the sense to figure that fact out that if a particular brand of magical arts came to him easier now, it should mean that he has an affinity towards it. It wasn't as if his heir lacked versatility in magic. Perhaps Harry was carried away, venting out his frustrations over his defeat at Pettigrew's hands.

Peter Pettigrew. Rat animagus. Death eater. Betrayer of his heir's parents. Cunning and ruthless. A proper enemy, if thought properly. Most people out there were men who were all brawn and boasting their abilities were easy to figure out, their weaknesses easily spotted. Men who were arrogant, who acted on basis of their emotion rather than logic. Such people made poor enemies. Salazar did not fear them.

On the contrary, there were people who hid their powers and strengths behind a mask of civility, who were content to remain behind in the dark while watching their pawns fight the battle for them, men who played to their strengths. Such men made worthy enemies. _The only kind worth having. Men like him._

Salazar smirked. There was work to do.

* * *

Harry Potter knew that there was nothing he could do now. He was grounded, beaten down by the magical backlash, and was surrounded by walls, on all sides. His magical reserves were low, his spells useless and his body rapidly reaching magical exhaustion. Bringing his inner Gryffindor bravery up, he decided to wait and watch the results. The wave strode furiously at him with tremendous velocity. Closing his eyes, he embraced himself for what was to come. If this was the end, perhaps he would meet his parents. If not, well... he would see.

His nerves flared like never before, the magical wave traversing through his body, having an effect Harry had never felt before. The waves that flooded through him were oddly reminiscent of the magical waves of the chronomantic magic of the time turner. His magic flared and he braced himself for receiving pain. But what he received was a strange voice, talking to him. A voice that he had come to recognize as the soul piece that was trying to corrupt his soul.

 **"** **You may be out of my reach, Harry Potter. But you cannot escape from me. I will get you in the end."**

Harry knew what the abomination meant. But he also knew that his ancient house magicks would help him in his fight against the abomination. Helpless or not, he would not accept defeat. Not to Voldemort.

 _Fuck it! Do your worst!_

The magical wave crashed against his magical core, sending a magical backlash that sent Harry's consciousness into oblivion.

And then all that remained was darkness.

* * *

"You just can't limit yourself in the mortal realms; can you descendant?" an angry voice called out to Harry's mind.

 _Great! I am unconscious and still I am getting a reprimand._

Harry opened his eyes. It was darkness. He was standing in space. Beneath his feet was the-

 _Crap! Not again!_

He was back in his magical core, getting thoroughly chastised by the purple mist, he had come to associate as the family magick of House Slytherin. The area was the same as always, just that the two remaining mists were nowhere to be found. Nor was the dark soul piece anywhere to be noticed. Just the crimson flames below his feet, serving as his ground and the purple mist chastising him.

"Tell me descendant! Is it too difficult for you to not visit us again and again? Your magical powers are already in too much turmoil; did you just have to get chronomantic magic to add to the mess?"

 _Is my family magick whining to me?_

"It was an accident." Harry tried to explain.

"Be what it was. Why did you then fight the chronomantic magic when you knew it was an accident?"

 _The what?_

"You were stuck in a pocket reality, away from your magical signature. An illusion where you were separated from the rest of the magical world. Your powers and magical signature tried to return back to you and you tried to curb its action."

"So the wave was..."

"Your magical signature floating in the temporal dimension. Honestly boy, I have served many heirs of House Slytherin, but no one, I repeat no one, ever, even by mistake, managed to create an accident, mingling temporal and illusion magicks at the same time. You could not have been born luckier to escape this, I tell you." The mist ranted.

 _Apparently I am Fate's bitch. Salazar would be proud._

"So what happened this time?" he finally asked.

"Nothing bad, luckily. The temporal wave that lashed into your magical core somehow shook the soul piece here to get detached from your core. Your magic is more free for you to use now. The fact that you have had an empowering ritual performed on yourself helps. Maybe you will be better now, to fight against the anathema that is spoiling the core with its presence. Tell me descendant, why haven't you called in to my powers yet?"

"Your powers?" Harry asked with caution.

"The family magick of Slytherin. Were you always this dumb? Having an essence of the venerated dragon lords in your blood, and never using it or honing it. I have no idea what must be going on in that cesspool you call a mind."

 _Perhaps the family magick of Slytherin is what makes Salazar so sarcastic!_

"I am waiting, descendant!" An angry voice resonated.

"I will... ask Salazar... my mentor about it."

"Do it. You haven't honed any of your real abilities. Your elemental powers, your wyvern spirit or your family magick. I am disappointed."

 _Great! I seem to run through a course of making people disappointed!_

Harry nodded.

"Return back to your world now. And the next time I see you, it shall be too early."

"yes mother!" Harry muttered.

A wave of tranquility washed through him. Opening his eyes, he found himself back in an empty room.

 _I desperately need a bed to rest!_

A bed manifested out of nowhere.

 _Ah! The room of requirement! Good to be back in the world of the living!_

* * *

A torrent of ice cold water brought Harry out of his languid rest. Jumping off in a fit, he brought up his wand to face whoever had broken his hard-earned rest. Looking up through his now flustered eyes, he saw his mentor smirking at his wet self.

"Taking a nap, are we?"

 _Perhaps a portrait Salazar was better._

"I was magically exhausted."

"Magically exhausted in completing the simple task I had asked of you?" Salazar prompted.

 _Definitely better._

"There was an accident." Harry began describing whatever had taken place since he had left the Chamber. After he was done, his mentor sighed.

"I suppose I should let you rest for the day. You surely do not do things by half, my heir. Only you would get involved in an accident between temporal and illusion magicks and come out unharmed. Anyone else would perhaps be stuck somewhere in the Chaos-"

"Stuck in the Chaos?" Harry urged.

"Forget I said that."

 _Weird._

"And about that family magick thing..." Harry began.

"Yes!" his mentor sighed. "It was my hope that I would begin your training in illusions first. Nevertheless, we shall include family magick into our schedule. Maybe it is for the best."

"And my Eveningshade family-"

"Forget about that at the moment!" Salazar interrupted with a scorn.

 _Definitely weird._

"Return to your room in the Chamber. Take the day off. We begin your elemental and family magick training tomorrow. How far are you in your Occlumency?"

"I'm at least a third level Occlumens by now."

"Good."

"Before you leave, did you figure out your affinities?"

"Battle magic and Charms. Although I have tested out only Charms, transfiguration, battle magic and dismantling wards."

"What about the other two?"

"As good as before. No easier or difficult than was previously."

"Good."

"Master." Harry hesitated before asking. "My magick called the ritual as **Empowering**. You said it brings out my affinities. The two descriptions aren't similar."

"Quite astute and observant of you. Yes, I missed out telling you a few things. Will tell you about that later. Now rest. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Yes... master."


	35. ROTD 35 : DragonLords and Illusions

"I still can't believe that the school won't open till another week and I have been living here, without anyone knowing it."

Salazar smirked at his heir's expression.

"That would be because you have been residing in only two rooms of the entire castle, especially when one of those is not a part of the school's wards and the other masks all magic inside it. The fact that having your own elf to cook your meals helps."

"You may have a point there." Harry commented, pretending to be thinking deeply.

"Cheeky brat!" His mentor muttered sourly.

Raising himself up to his fullest height, and Harry wondered not for the first time, how good it must be to tower above people. Salazar Slytherin, was literally a giant among men, his physical stature rising higher than six feet, while Harry was still a modest five feet ten. However, Harry had hopes that he would surely grow taller in future. At least that was what he kept saying to himself.

His mentor addressed him in that oddly formal voice again. "Your tutelage over the last year has been quite spectacular, though your application of those skills in person and dire situations leaves a lot to be cultivated. That said, you shall continue honing your skills by yourself from now on, while I shall be working with you on arts of a more personalized form."

Harry gestured his mentor to continue.

"Tell me apprentice; how is your sword wielding skills going on?"

"I can hold my own. I should be able to move forward to the magic wielding part by the next week. Gryffindor's instructions were exemplary, and... interesting. I can get my flames merged with the sword quite easily now, ever since the ritual."

"And your runic skills?"

"About to surpass NEWT level, should I try." Harry answered.

"I think you should try your hand at the OWL examinations you told me about. Maybe you could take out your major subjects for OWL testing in the coming year and then the NEWTS on our fifth year."

"You want me to test out of Hogwarts? Directly at the ministry?"

"Yes." Salazar sighed. Sometimes his apprentice was a simpleton beyond reason. "It will provide you a way to separate yourself from being just the Boy-who-lived. It may increase jealousy amongst your peers but the utilities are much better, the harms notwithstanding."

"True. So that will allow me to technically stay here at school without the necessity to attend the major classes."

"Correct." Salazar smirked. "Leave behind some side course like History of magic or Creatures. You will have a legal reason to stay back. Maybe you could convince your professors to help you acquire a mastery while you remain here."

"And I will be able to continue my studies with you. Although I wonder, now that you are a ..." he hesitated, "a ghost; won't you be able to come stay with me at Slytherin Manor?"

"I thought the manor was in ruins." Salazar replied, skeptically.

"I may have asked Grimjaw to make reparations and rebuild the manor to its original form. And the goblins might have been working on it, well hard enough to get the job done by the next year." Harry replied cheekily.

A flash of emotion flitted through his mentor's face.

"Good job. My heir."

Silence reigned for a few moments.

"We will begin your elemental training tomorrow. Perhaps now that you are _empowered_ , as you like to say, we can try at getting you armed with your wyvern form. Today you shall practice your Mind magicks till the noon, and after lunch, we shall begin your foray into illusory arts."

"What about the family magick?" Harry quipped.

With an exasperated sigh, he continued, "The line of Slytherin has always been blessed with the essence of the elder dragons. Our wands have more often than not, contained some essence of a dragon or at least some kind of reptilian creature." He cast his heir a rather pointed look.

 _Blood of a basilisk... right!_

Convinced that his heir understood his subtle hint, he continued. "The DragonLords were a distinct kind of mages who had spectacular abilities that made them both feared and respected. They were masters of illusory arts. They could converse with any kind of reptiles and dragons, and when commanded with magical intent, said creatures usually bent their will in tune with what a DragonLord would ask them to do. Although power was a determining factor in this case. The family of DragonLords, otherwise known as the familia Slytherin had existed for over two millennia, before a scion of the family rejected his own family values and decided to have a coalition with mundane kingdoms. His decision later came to bite him as he was treacherously betrayed by the then mundane king. Defeated and betrayed, he left the magical realms to settle away in the magical forests of Ealdor. He sired a son with a mundane there, and the son later came to be known as one of the true masters of reality distortions and enchantment. Can you guess who I am talking about?" Salazar smirked.

"You mean..." Harry gulped.

"Yes. I am talking about Myrrdin Emrys. The prince of Enchanters. The last DragonLord of the Isles of magical Britain."

"Myrrdin was brought back into the family by the Slytherin elders and under their tutelage, he grew up to become one of the most accomplished illusory masters. The fact that he conquered the will of the elder dragon Kilgarrah, is a testament to his prowess as a DragonLord. He was referred to as "Emrys" by the druids, and that became his public name. After the battle of Camlann, the House of Pendragon had awarded him Knighthood like the other families. Of course, Myrrdin never let it out that he was a Slytherin, for that would have... complicated matters. Thus, the ruling house of Emrys was born."

"What happened to him?"

"During the fidelis ritual, Myrrdin volunteered to supply his magical strength for the ritual to execute at full capacity. After it was done, he began to feel _hollow_ , as he had written in his diaries. He also mentioned the calling that he often got from the Wild and the Chaos. And then, one day, he disappeared."

" _Just like that_?"

"Just like that. The last DragonLord was gone, and the Slytherin family lost its most powerful magical prowess. When I became the Lord of my family, my wand contained basilisk venom and I found that I had great finesse when it came to controlling snakes more than anything, and so I had the family totem transmuted into a basilisk and so did the family crest. It has remained so ever since."

"So the DragonLord abilities are lost forever, and I have to find them to defeat the soul piece of Voldemort?" Harry asked warily.

"Technically, it is impossible to do that. The abilities were taken away by Wild Magick. All wizards after _that time_ lost the abilities. You cannot just _will_ those powers back like that. Magic knows, I tried well enough."

"So there is absolutely _no_ way to get them back?" Harry confirmed, his mind working overtime.

"There is absolutely no way to get them back _now_." His mentor confirmed it back.

Harry knew his mentor was hinting at something, although he could not guess what it was. He was about to leave for practice, when a thought flitted through his mind."

"You know...during that _empowering_ ritual, I heard a dragon roar and some of sort of Parseltongue speech." Harry said pointedly.

"Did you?" His mentor's eyes flashing in excitement, "Interesting... very interesting!"

* * *

Harry stood in front of the Mirror of Possibilities. Stretching his palm out, he touched the mirror surface, anticipating the Legilimency attack to come forth. This was an exercise he had practiced countless times, and each time, after an increased interval, he would lose his hold and get thrown back. After he had reached the end of a level, the attacks would change course and Harry would get defeat vehemently again. It was simply impossible to hold on the mirror for an indefinite amount of time. After his three months of regular practice, the most he could do was hold on for five minutes while the mirror attacked his shields with a sledge hammer. After he crossed his second level, the hammer became a sharp edged knife and wounded his shields right and left. Today however, he could hold his own for around four minutes against the Legilimency knife. Knowing that he had finally passed on to being a fourth level Occlumens, he could not help but be pleased with himself. He was sure that he could easily hold his own against Dumbledore or Snape for now. He wondered about the recent changes in the behavior of his mentor. Salazar was hiding information from him, and the sad thing was, harry could not even compel him to reveal it. Damned Apprentice contract. He knew now what Salazar meant when he had coolly advised him to wait and not get involved as an apprentice. But being the Gryffindor that he was, Harry had thought with his heart and not his head. How he hated his miscalculated actions now. Figuring out that nothing could be done until he was done with being an apprentice, he might better learn up as much as he could. Freshening himself up, he left to search for his mentor.

* * *

"You are back! Did you have your lunch?"

"Not feeling specifically hungry for now." Harry replied.

"Your wish!" His mentor waved the topic aside coolly.

With a wave of his hand, Salazar summoned three books from the library. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if he would ever be able to attain the magical prowess of his mentor. The books slowly dropped down in front of him, one upon the other. Looking at the one on top, he brushed off the dirt and looked at the heading.

 ** _Arcana magicus fluiditas._**

"That book is going to be a part of your self-study. It deals with personalizing your magic. Now that your magic is more fluid and more potent than ever, you must learn how to mold it. Once you are done with that book, you shall be able to consciously vary the power you put behind a spell. Ideally, you could cast a blasting curse and could provide it with the power of lightning, or make it as useless as knocking someone with a feather. Although I would advise you to practice every exercise without using wand movements at all. Focus on intent, and intent alone."

Harry complied and shoved the book away to his side. He would have to look in detail over it later.

The second book was on rituals. Interestingly, it was authored by his ancestor and his mentor's wife, Evolette Eveningshade. Surprised that his mentor had outright forbidden him to talk about his other Lordship and now was handling a magical tome belonging to them, Harry could not help but be a bit flustered at what was going on in his master's mind.

"That tome contains over a thousand rituals, affecting one's health, magical prowess and abilities amongst other things. You are to read through the rituals, divining their uses and their considerable effects when used in combination. This will be your homework for your summer holidays. You need to figure out six rituals that could be used in positive combination with the ritual you have already undergone. A seven-based ritual combination has more powerful effects than anything else. Once you are done with that, you shall work on finding other seven-based ritual combinations that you feel should be beneficial for you to perform. Most of the rituals involve quite expensive and rare ingredients, but money should not be a factor, knowing how much gold you have acquired over the sale of the basilisk parts. Is that understood?"

Seeing his pupil nod, he continued. "Now the final book." He levitated the ritual book out of the way to reveal the third and final book. _The Illusory Arte by Salazar Slytherin_ , the name read.

 _That is a man who loves his work._ Harry thought.

"The illusory arts are many, ever changing and eternal. There is no particular way in which an illusory attack can be defended against. It takes no less than a fourth level Occlumens to even figure out the attack, much less defend it. As it is, Illusory magicks are wonderful when it comes to attacking, especially against a large crowd. Makes things go into mayhem. That said, you must not use Illusory attacks until it is the last option available."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, curious.

"illusory magic is something that is practiced among closed doors in hidden obscure cults, apprentice. It is not something like transfiguration that can be practiced in commonplace. Most people would think that you have confounded the opponent or something, which is borderline dark at most. But remember, there will be people who will recognize illusions when performed. If you face a situation, when you have no option but to conduct an illusory attack, remember this. You will be notice, Harry Potter. Noticed by people who will know that you are treading along the path of the forbidden arte."

"I take it, that it is a bad thing."

"A serpent strikes from the shadows. It finds its enemy's greatest weakness and strikes at that point, but always from the shadows, lest it invite its opponent's wrath. You will gain acquaintances, and not all will be your friends, just like all will not be your enemies. But by using the illusory arts, you will let them know what is it that you are, and that will make them wary of you."

Harry nodded.

"The first thing you need to understand is how to conjure an illusory shield. As the name suggests, it is an illusion. But that does not mean it is not a true shield either. A magical art where everything is true and yet nothing is real."

"How can I conjure something which is not real?" Harry wondered out, loudly.

Salazar smirked. It was an obvious question. "Tell me apprentice, what do you do when you fire an intent based curse on someone?"

"I focus my intent and my magic though my wand and guide it out towards my opponent." Harry replied almost automatically.

"So your focal point here is your wand right?"

Harry nodded.

"In Illusions, the focal point is your opponent's mind. You shall need to channel your intent through your opponent's mind. Simply speaking, make your opponent function as _your_ wand. And then perform the spell."

"So my opponent sees what I want him to see, and believes what I want him to believe." Harry countered, his eyes now wide with understanding.

"Yes, a sword where you want it, or a shield where you want it. Intent is everything. If your opponent believes that there is a shield in front of him, his magic will believe the same. So even a real blasting curse will splash against a hypothetical shield." Salazar finished with a smirk.

" _Everything is true and nothing is real_ ". Harry reverberated the words of his mentor with a smile.

"Now get down to work!" Salazar prodded.


	36. ROTD 36 : On the Express

**### I have added a poll for my precious readers. It is available on my profile page. Now that the first part of the Trilogy is nearing its end (though there are quite a number of chapters still remaining), I am making certain decisions regarding the 2nd part of the trilogy, which shall deal with Harry's adventures of 4th year. Please vote and of course, review my story! Feel free to PM me with any suggestions for the story. Your reviews and suggestions works wonders for my muse.**

 **Thanks,**

 **Arcturus Peverell.**

* * *

The week had passed quickly and Harry had spent majority of his time wielding his blade and trying to wield basic illusory attacks The morning he would spend in the Room of Requirement, practicing battle magic and Transfiguration. After lunch, Salazar would tutor him in the theory of Illusory magic which would then convert into practice till late night. After the day was done, he would use the time turner and spend the day again reading and researching his lessons in the library of the Chamber and practice mind magicks. The double week had flown quicker than expected as Harry became seamlessly more and more accomplished in the magical arts. Now and then, his mentor would give him a warded box and tell him to identify and find out the weaknesses of the wards applied on it by magical sensing. Salazar was teaching him the absolute versatility of magic.

It was the day when the students were supposed to return back to school. The holidays were over and Harry was anticipating Daphne's return to Hogwarts.

"I suppose you want to go back, only to return back by the Express."

Harry nodded. "Good. It will keep up your illusion that you were away."

"You still haven't taught me Apparation theory yet." Harry commented.

"We will work on that very soon. I wanted you to begin on Illusions as quickly as possible. It was of the highest priority."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Salazar did not answer.

 _Great!_

"I guess I shall meet you down here, not before tomorrow night." At his mentor's nod, he held up his ring, the one he always used as a portkey to and fro the Chamber; supplying the intent he whispered, "opus". With the familiar tug at his navel, the portkey whisked him away.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass stood on the Kings Cross station, waiting outside the barrier with her family. They were waiting for her betrothed Harry Potter to come and join them and as expected, he was late. She was infuriated that she had lost the bet to Tracy that Harry would be late to arrive, and would have to pay her five galleons. Needless to say, the more the delay Harry made, the more detrimental effect it would have to his life. Her friends had gone ahead, searching for seats and she had to oddly stay behind, waiting for Mr. delayed Boy-who-lived.

Harry appeared in a narrow alley beside the station, with a silent pop. It would not do to let people know that he was using an unauthorized portkey. Quickly applying a silent expansion charm, he enlarged his trunk out and tugged it all the way inside the platform. Finding Daphne and the rest of his extended family, he strode up to them and wished them. Daphne smiled at him beautifully but there was a certain rigidity in her consternation that made Harry wary of her. He walked up to her and gave her a soft hug. Daphne hugged him in return and whispered, "You lost me five galleons. You will pay for that Potter." Harry shook his head silently, knowing it was the best thing he could do. An angry Daphne Greengrass wasn't good for anybody.

Seated on the window side, Harry was travelling back to Hogwarts with his friends. His betrothed sat just beside him, her arms entwined with his, a matter for which he had to endure a lot of catcalls and teasing from his friends; Tracy and Susan seated beside Daphne. On the opposite side, Neville sat, along with Blaise, Theo and Hannah. Antony had gone off to sit with his friends in Ravenclaw and Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Not that Harry missed her presence a lot; he still had difficulty believing that Hermione would have resorted to confound him using a love potion. He had built up a casual but healthy friendship with a lot of people from all the four houses but it was this group of seven people, that he was the closest to. Of course, everyone inside the group knew about Harry's status as the Lord Slytherin (not to mention the many Lord jokes that he had to endure because of that) and also knew that he and Daphne were betrothed and clearly had deep feelings for each other. Even for Daphne, it seemed almost like a miracle that Harry had won over her heart, someone who was known for her iciness and reclusive nature. Everything went back to one of their conversations that they had in the third floor corridor, where they often met in secrecy and spent time together.

 **FLASHBACK**

"You should relax your grip. Not so tightly." Harry reassured her.

"Now?"

"Yes. Now slowly move it forwards and then backwards."

Daphne followed.

"Now," he stood facing her, "lift it up in one steep cliff", he demonstrated with his wand, "and cast the spell. The basic spell chain should be complete."

"oh!" Daphne muttered. This is easier than she had anticipated.

After practicing for another thirty minutes, they decided to call it a day. Sitting down on a bench, their heads supported by the cold wall behind, they sat in silence.

"Daphne?"

"Yeah...Harry?"

"There is this thing that's been in my mind since some days. I wanted to ask you, but wasn't sure if you would feel offended." Harry spoke with e reluctance in his speech.

"Well... what is it?"

"why do you... you know... behave so coldly... with everyone? Magic knows you are quite ...err... charming in reality. Then why the... mask?" he hesitated.

"Oh! The ice queen, you mean?" she questioned; her eyes narrowed.

Harry nodded.

Daphne sighed. "It is a defense mechanism I employed to sustain myself in Slytherin house. When I was seven, I was great friends with Pansy." Looking at Harry's perturbed face, she continued, "She wasn't that big of a ... bitch then. In spite of the fact that her dad and mine were not... associates, we kept our friendship without any concern. But then, she started changing. Her dad was trying to arrange a contract with Malfoy, betrothing them together. Me and Malfoy, let's just say we were never friends. Merlin knows that he bullied Tracy enough because she is a half-blood. When we were eight, Pansy betrayed me and spilled out all my secrets out to Malfoy only because she hoped Malfoy would find her useful and would not argue against the betrothal contract. I was inconsolable for weeks. Pansy was my first best friend and she had betrayed me deeply.

When I left for Hogwarts, father told me to learn some offensive spells so that I would be safe from Malfoy and his group of bullies. I already had that emotionless mask in place by that time. My dad said that the best way to avoid getting used is to appear indifferent to everything. Act as if you just don't care. Act like everyone is beneath you. If they can't see the real you, they can't use the real you. I quickly found out that I had an affinity for ice-based spells. In first year around Christmas, Malfoy and his cronies had tried to overpower me in hopes of showing me who was superior."

"What happened then?" Harry asked, his expression dominated by anger,

 _Is he infuriated for me?_

"I froze their family jewels." Daphne replied simply.

A grin appeared on Harry's face and that led to a full blown laughter. Soon his contagious laughter infected her and she too began laughing.

"And then?" he asked.

"Well, the House Assembly was called for. People came to know. The prefects punished Malfoy and his lackeys with a two-week detention and I got for myself a brand new nickname."

"The ice queen!" Harry finished.

Daphne nodded.

"I hope someday you will find it within you to trust me." Harry began and stopped her from retaliating in between, "No Daphne, I mean it. I will win your trust the proper way. Not use the betrothal as a chain to bind you. I want you to be happy, and I want to be happy with you. I have never had a family and I..."

Before Harry could finish, Daphne hugged him tightly.

"Thank you. Harry."

"You are welcome... Daphne!"

* * *

Hermione Granger was travelling alone again, this time back to Hogwarts. But this time, she had changed. She was no more the muggleborn girl who used to find joy in obeying whatever her seniors and teachers told her. She was no more the girl who believed in everything Headmaster Dumbledore told her. She was no longer the girl who was best friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

Her life on the outskirts of Knockturn Alley had changed her outlook of life. She now knew the alley like the back of her hand. She had worked hard for Mr. Borgin and earned quite an amount of money over the holidays. Plus, the little library in the shop was all hers to devour during her off hours. What she had learnt had completely changed her perception of life and magic.

 _There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it._

The tomes had literally opened her eyes. She was in a magical coma for two days after she performed the Sanguinis ritual. It was good that she had decided to perform it at her rented place. She remembered how her magic had flared, how she had heard certain odd sounds and visualized certain blurry incomprehensible images. How her muscles had been embittered with pain, and how she had succumbed to oblivion after the magical backlash of the ritual. At first, everything seemed so normal to her, but then, she started remembering. All her research, all her knowledge, her secret parchments she had stored away, her studies on the dark arts, everything. Her mind seemed clearer than before. She could sense some shield like barrier than protected her mind and memories away from magical foray. Her mind was finally safe.

But that was not all. She was now cold, and calculating. Her emotions, which previously used to show themselves freely, were now forced back and controlled. She smirked more, her face lost her smile. As she pored through the tomes every day after work, she would learn new things, forbidden things. She understood what a piss poor education she was being provided at Hogwarts. This knowledge, the one in her tomes, was the real deal. Perhaps she would get some more from the restricted section of the library when she returned. Also, her magic had changed. Transfiguration was easier to her than ever, and so was potions. Dark magic came to her at a quicker pace than it previously did. She also tried her hand at Arithmancy and runes. While runes were way too easy for her, she struggled a lot at Arithmancy. It was maddening. She was just not able to grasp the concept. Figuring that the subject was hard, and perhaps she did not have any affinity for it, she left her attempts and had proceeded to her self-study of the dark arts. Rituals! How they mesmerized her! They could do anything and everything! Hell, there were rituals that could elevate her to a magical potency that even wizards like Dumbledore would be weaker in her comparison. Or so she theorized. Her plan for the coming year was to figure out rituals to use upon herself. Her aims had changed. No more was Harry Potter the center of her universe. The feeling of power and knowledge in her core, that she had felt during the ritual, had changed her. She would strive hard, and become the most powerful witch in history. Harry Potter would have to bow to her. And then he would be hers.

The door to her compartment opened with a creak.

Draco Malfoy stood there in all his glory, along with his cronies, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle, and his newest acquisition to his group, one Ronald Weasley. Hermione kept herself from rolling her eyes at their sight. If the group in front of her were trying to intimidate her, they were doing a piss poor job at it so far.

"So the famous Potter left you all alone, did he Mudblood?" Draco drawled.

"Sod off Malfoy. I am not interested in talking to you. Go and try your intimidation on someone else." Hermione replied, her attention returning to her tome.

"Look at me when I am talking to you, you filthy bitch!" Malfoy roared, and then he smirked at Ron.

Ron understood the gesture and shot off a disarming hex at Hermione, causing the tome to fly out of her hands.

Hermione slowly looked up, and gave her old friend a withering glare. "So you decided to join Malfoy and his cronies; did you? Quite hypocritical considering that he is, what you call 'a slimy Slytherin'."

Ron blanched for a moment, then heaving his chest up, looked back to her in the eye. "What he is, is a Pureblood of noble breed and pedigree. Just like I am. Not something you would understand; You are after all, a filthy mudblood who spits on our traditions and shows off her pathetic attempts at being a witch.

"My father has always taught me to attack on my enemies' greatest weakness. Potter being absent makes you alone, and that is your greatest weakness. We are many, you are one. What ever shall you do..." Malfoy drawled.

 _And do you understand what kind of retaliation you are inviting right now Malfoy?_

"Leave Malfoy." Hermione replied softly, and bent down to pick up her book.

"Don't ignore me Mudblood!" Malfoy roared. "Crabbe, Goyle, Ron, get her."

Hermione spun back with supernatural speed and her wand shot out of her holster. Firing out two dark stinging hexes aimed at their groin, she stopped the two buffoons midway. Hands at their family jewels, the two large boys fell down on the floor, groaning in pain. With an undignified screech, Ronald fired off a slug-erupting curse at her. Hermione smirked. Trust Ron to know only a couple of offensive spells. She raised an obscure shield before trying to blast Ron away with a banishing charm. The spell did not happen the way it was supposed to. All she got was a weak push that sent Ron back by a few feet. She looked at her wand in despair. Why did that happen? Charms were always natural to her. She was always the first at casting them; right from the first day when she had cast the levitation spell before any of the other first years.

At Hermione's failure at casting the spell properly, Ron smirked. "Now I will show you what a pureblood is capable of, Granger." The name sounded odd to her, having addressed Hermione by her name all these years, but Ron shook himself off his thoughts. His friends had changed, and with that, his stature. He reminded himself of the Golden law, the one with the gold made the law. Malfoy had the gold, Malfoy held the powers at the Wizengamot, and Malfoy would be standing on the winning side, and Ron Weasley would stand by his side.

Hermione shook herself out of her reveries. She would figure out her anomaly about the charm casting later; right now she had to face her old friend. With a smirk, she transfigured a couple of iron chains, and bound her old friend with them. With a flick of her wand, the chains bound Ron tightly and squeezed him hard. The pain that was reverberating through his bones and his muscles as the spiky chains cut through his skin, made Ron scream out in agony.

* * *

Malfoy watched in horror as his newest henchman was tortured by the mudblood. He could not believe that Hermione "the bookworm" Granger had resorted to use a potentially dark curse on one of his followers. He knew that spiked iron chain curse well. It was one of the curses his dad liked to use on his enemies. How on earth had Granger of all people learnt that curse, he could not fathom. However, the situation presented another opportunity to one up the mudblood, and by extension, Potter.

"MURDER! MURDER! SOMEBODY HELP! GRANGER IS MURDERING WEASLEY!" Draco shouted his lungs out, banging the doors of the adjacent compartments as well. This was a golden opportunity and Draco would be damned if he would miss milking it.

* * *

Harry was having a great time with his friends when a rather loud commotion disturbed his discussion. Figuring out that something was wrong probably, he walked out of the compartment, swiftly followed by Daphne and the others. Reaching the end of the corridor, he walked straight into Malfoy.

"Malfoy, why are you causing such a commotion? Don't you-"

He looked in front and his eyes bulged in shock. Hermione Granger, his ex-best friend, was holding Ron Weasley under a torture curse. It was an impossibility. Hermione, who had all through the last year, complained about how Harry had been shifting towards the dark; was now using a dark curse on Ron Weasley. Knowing Ron, he must have put his foot inside his mouth and said something that might have enraged Hermione. He remembered how Flitwick had described Hermione as 'distressed', but that was a long call away from what was in front of his eyes. For Hermione to effectively use a torture curse, and that too, with such focused intent, was unfathomable. He could not control himself and uttered out...

"Hermione?"

* * *

Hermione was having a blissful moment. The power and the pleasure that dark magic brought in her veins, it was exhilarating. The feeling of invincibility that she felt while exercising her intent, was completely euphoric. Ron Weasley, the guy who had insulted her since the first day; Ron Weasley, who had saddened her enough to go and cry into the girl's bathroom and almost suffer death at the hands of a troll; Ron Weasley, who had always tried to provoke Harry away from her, who had always fought tooth and nail over every single topic; Ron Weasley, who had accompanied her and Harry on every adventure only to become an ' _Achilles heel'_ every single time, and yet won recognition for the same; Ron Weasley, who hated her pet Crookshanks and was the source of the disruption of her friendship with Harry; Ron Weasley, who had joined hands with Malfoy of all people; Ron Weasley, the betrayer, the Gryffindor who could be described as the perfect caricature of a _Slimy Slytherin._ She had Ron begging for mercy, asking her to remove the spell off her. She had Ron under her control, under the spell of her intent.

 _I could get used to casting Dark magic..._

She twisted her wand and increase Ron's agony when a familiar voice shook her out of her contemplation. She looked in front of her, and looked directly into the emerald eyes of the boy she loved more than anyone else.

Harry Potter.


	37. ROTD 37 : Unforeseen complications

**### I have added a poll for my precious readers. It is available on my profile page. Now that the first part of the Trilogy is nearing its end (though there are quite a number of chapters still remaining), I am making certain decisions regarding the 2nd part of the trilogy, which shall deal with Harry's adventures of 4th year. Please vote and of course, review my story! Feel free to PM me with any suggestions for the story. Your reviews and suggestions works wonders for my muse.**

 **Thanks,**

 **Arcturus Peverell.**

* * *

 **Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts.**

"Miss Granger! I am disappointed in you."

Albus Dumbledore, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts sat in front of Hermione Granger in his office room. Surrounding her were his deputy Head McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape. Since 1960, he had been serving as Headmaster of this prestigious institution. Never in his entire career had he felt so disappointed with himself as he felt now. Even Tom Riddle, who grew up to become the fearsome and notorious Lord Voldemort, never committed any kind of atrocities so openly. As for the witches, Bellatrix Lestrange came to mind, and even she was Slytherin enough to commit herself into dark arts before leaving Hogwarts. And for an exemplary Gryffindor student like Miss Granger to do so, was completely incomprehensible.

"Headmaster, it was Ron and Malfoy who began the-"

"And you ended it. Am I right?" Dumbledore countered, his twinkling eyes gone and replaced by silent fury.

"I am completely crestfallen by your deeds, Miss Granger. You were one of the top students of your year, and for you to resort to torturing someone of your year is something completely unacceptable. Yes, Mr. Weasley may be said something worse and provocative to you, but that does not justify your actions. I have decided that you shall serve detention for the coming two months, and you shall openly apologize for your actions to Mr. Weasley."

At Hermione's sudden indignant look, he raised his hand and continued with a stern voice. "I am not finished Miss Granger. I have received letters from your parents, that you had run away from home during the holidays. Your change in countenance, your knowledge of at least one borderline dark curse and your considerable control over your intent over the dark curse casting proves my suspicions correct. I want to know... what did you do during the holidays, Miss Granger?"

"With all due respect Headmaster, I am afraid I have to deny your request," came Hermione's indignant reply. "What I do during my holidays is not your concern."

Albus Dumbledore laid back for a while, and flashed his twinkling blue eyes. With a silent albeit powerful foray, he sent a Legilimency attack towards Hermione's mindscape. Knowing her, it should be very easy to get the information out of her mind. What he did not expect were powerful shields that arose and defended the mindscape from his attack. In fact, his magical foray was completely obliterated from existence by the shields.

 _Those are not natural shields. What have you been up to Miss Granger?_

He blanched as he was suddenly bombarded by a magical intent, only to recognize a moment later, that it was a Legilimency incursion from Hermione. He waited and deciphered the magic, and was surprised that it was a single thought. Hermione Granger had sent him a Legilimency message.

 _Keep out of my mind, Headmaster!_

Albus Dumbledore sat up straight, looking at his student in the eye, whispered sternly.

"We will continue our discussion sometime else. Please leave, Miss Granger."

"If we must." Hermione countered, and stiffly walked out of the room.

"Albus? What is wrong?" Flitwick asked.

"I am afraid Miss Granger has been seduced by the Dark arts. Though how she could get access to the dark tomes, I have no idea. I have my own wards placed on the Restricted section, and she has not yet tripped them. I have no idea, although I will make some calls. Perhaps some of my connections in Diagon Alley had seen her during the holidays."

"That would be better." Minerva commented.

After Minerva and Filius left the office, only Snape remained.

"What are your thoughts, Severus?"

"I cannot comment, Headmaster." Snape commented slowly. "But I have to admit, it is quite a fathomless situation. I personally, never expected this happening."

"Look into the matter. Tell me if there are any advancements."

Severus nodded.

Walking out of the office, Severus thought to himself, about the sudden inconceivable events that were happening. First that anonymous letter leading Pettigrew to Harry's location, then Ron Weasley joining his godson's group of cronies, and now this. Severus hated not knowing, and things were happening completely beyond his knowledge. Somewhere there was a puppet master pulling the strings, and people were acting accordingly. Whoever this person was, it was not the Dark Lord. Lunatic or not, the Dark Lord would not obviously sign off his letter as "You-know-who". It was someone else, and Severus would be damned if he could not figure out who it was.

* * *

"Ah! Harry, come in, come in!" Flitwick welcomed Harry into his office.

"Good morning sir! I got your note." Harry replied back as he entered.

"I have some news about the tournament, so thought I should inform you." At Harry's nod, he continued, "The tournament would begin this oncoming July, and we need to travel to the main event at least a day before the tournament is supposed to begin. There are certain forms I need you to fill and certain norms and conditions I need to tell you about, but before all that, tell me about your progress."

"I am ready. Professor." Harry replied confidently.

"Indeed?" Filius countered, impressed with the confidence of his protégé. "Well, in that case, there are certain final touches that you need to arm yourself with. Such techniques will give you an edge in some battles, not that I have any dispute over your dexterity.

"shall we begin then, professor?"

Filius smirked. "Of course."

After what seemed to be a practice session for over an hour, Harry and Flitwick were both panting; said session had taken a lot out of their magical and physical stamina. Serving themselves with water, Harry asked.

"Say professor, would you know anything about what happened to Hermione?"

Filius sat down on the chair, his tiny hands gripping the edges a little more strongly than normal. Squeaking out in an oddly flushed voice, he replied, "Miss Granger had been taken to the Headmaster. She has been given detention and told to publicly apologize to Mr. Weasley. No matter what Mr. Weasley had told Miss Granger, her use of torture on him was not justified. Mr. Weasley, for all his faults, did not deserve that. He could have been seriously injured.

 _Yes, and that would be so terrible!_

No matter what Hermione had done, Harry could not bring himself to support Weasley in this matter. The boy, who was once his best mate, had joined arms with Malfoy, and betrayed them. First Pettigrew, and now Ron. Harry wondered if it was a Grffindorish trait to betray one's own friends. After all, even Godric Gryffindor had not stood by Salazar when it mattered.

"I do not think Hermione took that nicely." He replied.

"No she didn't. I have never seen the Headmaster look so grave. Not even during the blood war, was his face so... solemn. It suddenly felt like the dotty old man had left, and the defeater of Grindelwald had entered the old man's shoes." Filius reminisced.

 _Hermione must have been into uncharted waters... dark magic surely, but what else? She was holding the curse with a focused intent, even one comparable to him. That was not possible, surely Hermione had not-_

 _Bloody hell! She couldn't have had the awakening ritual done on her, could she?_

Harry had read the rituals book cover to cover. There was no ritual that dealt with intent and focus, apart from the Sanguinis ritual. To get the information about them, there were only three tomes that could have provided her that. Salazar, for all his cynicism, was a prodigious scholar of magical history. Three books, the one on rituals by Evolette Eveningshade, a book which had only one copy and that belonged to Harry. The second book was the Secrets of the Darkest Art, and Salazar had mentioned that the school had a copy of the book somewhere in the restricted section, warded against students. And the third, Salazar had _completely forbidden_ him from touching the third tome. _Written in human blood on human skin as parchment_ , the tome was the nastiest creation on earth. There was _absolutely no fucking way_ that Hermione Granger could have had access to **Magic moste evile...**

* * *

"Master!" Harry shouted as he entered the inner chamber.

"What has you in such trepidation, apprentice?"

"I want to know if any copies of the forbidden tome were available to public." Harry answered.

Salazar's countenance drifted into seriousness. "Why do you ask about it?"

"Because I fear that my friend Hermione has performed the Sanguinis ritual on herself. Where do you think a muggleborn would get access to the ritual?" Harry nearly shouted in exasperation.

Salazar sighed. "Yes. The forbidden tome of Magic moste evile has three copies worldwide. Written in human blood on human skin, the single most tome that contains the most atrocious alterations of magic, more than Secrets of the Darkest Art. One of the vilest creations over the centuries."

"You speak of the books as if they are evil. I mean, they are just books, right?" Harry asked.

"You cannot possibly think that after centuries of containing vile magic, the book won't be the slightest polluted by them. You are supposed to be more sensible than that, descendant."

"Understood."

"And you say this girl may have access to one of those copies?"

Harry nodded.

"Let her be. Under no circumstances, are you to come in close contact with the tome or with anyone under direct influence of that tome."

 _What?_

"Hermione is my friend." He argued.

"Some friend she was, to try and potion you." Salazar countered.

"But still-" Harry could not find anything else to refute with.

"You will not. That is a direct order."

Harry nodded. "You know, I never thought I would see the day when you would force me to act against my own beliefs." Harry replied back, disappointment lingering in his voice.

Salazar sighed exasperatedly. "It is for your own good, Harry. You do not know the complete facts yet, but trust me, this is for the best. You cannot help her. Not now. Taking that tome away from her hands will complicate matters, not solve them. Your own magical core at this moment is in a state of flux right now, and I will be damned before I let the essence of that tome pollute you. Hate me if you will, I do not care."

Salazar faded into a mist and disappeared.

"Well... I wasn't expecting that to happen!" Harry said to nobody, standing alone in the Chamber.

* * *

The little girl walked up to the girl's bathroom on the second floor. Looking around and finding no one there, she stood in front of the taps and hissed. The taps glowed blue for a second and then, became normal. Her eyes narrowed. She hissed again, this time with a more powerful intent hanging over her command. The taps glowed again, and once again, returned back to normal.

Something was wrong. The taps were not working. The taps should have opened with virtually any Parseltongue command to open. But it was not working. Surely Dumbledore could not have changed the password to something specific. That required a Parseltongue.

Potter. Potter could have done it. But why would Potter care about changing the password of the Chamber? Potter wasn't knowledgeable enough to do that. Had Dumbledore asked him to help him change the password? Could be possible, but it was mere speculation. There was no way Dumbledore could be made to reveal the truth. Knowing him, he might have even obliviated Potter of the fact that the password was changed. A bad course of action. She would have to work without the Chamber's help and domain. It would be difficult, but when had difficulty stopped her from achieving anything? At least she could use the Room of Requirement. Her first pawn was ready. The next would soon follow. And soon, she would be unstoppable.

 _A day would come when every witch or wizard would fear to speak my name out..._

She smirked.


	38. ROTD 38 : Illusions and Introspection

**### Readers might have already noticed, but my ideas on reality distortion and illusory arts are heavily influenced by the movie 'Doctor strange'. The concepts of mind over matter and the mystic arts did wonders to my muse.**

* * *

Hermione Granger was angry. No scratch that, she was furious. She had barely apprehended the real taste of magic, and already the entire wizarding world was focused on cutting down her wings. The headmaster had ordered that she would be placed under house arrest, which basically meant that she would have a separate dorm of her own. While the teachers might have decided that in fear that Hermione's aggression might have an effect on the remaining students, and thus her separation would have prevented that; Hermione knew better. She was positively exhilarated at getting her own dorm. No more would she have to contend with others about getting her own space. No more gossips from the other girls, no more she had to see that pathetic excuse of a Weasley in front of her every day; she was separated and could use it to advance her own studies.

Opening her own trunk, she took out a carefully folded piece of cloth. Lifting the folds open, she gingerly took out the tome that had opened her eyes about the reality of magic. The single tome, Magic moste evile, was completely rationalized in its naming. It was no doubt the vilest tomes she had seen. And considering that she basically lived in a dark-arts library all her winter holiday, that was saying something.

Gingerly opening the folds of parchment that contained in them, secrets of magic that the rest of the wizarding populous was forbidden to know; Hermione began her studies. She had to divine her next ritual by the end of the month. It was completely set, one ritual a month, twelve rituals a year. Soon, she would become the most accomplished witch that ever lived. She wondered if Voldemort had also felt the same. But no, she was not like that monster. She would not kill for fun. After all, she loved Harry. If she would even think about killing, it would be for Harry. Just for Harry.

Hermione could not still believe that Mr. Borgin had let her take books from his shop. The conversation she had with him was still vivid in her mind.

 **FLASHBACK**

Hermione stared at the tome in front of her hands as the name registered in her mind. A year ago she would have perhaps run away in the reverse direction as fast as her feet could carry her, but now, her mindset had changed. It was with a smiling face that Hermione Granger opened the first page of the tome. She never noticed the dry smirk on the face of her employer standing in the shadows, as he spotted the name of the tome his employee was so keen on studying.

 _ **"Magic moste evile..."**_

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up in shock, almost dropping the tome from her hands. Her bookworm-instinct, however stopped the tome from falling as she managed to hold it down, as she stared in the blue orbs of her employer, Mr. Borgin.

"I'm so sorry sir! I had finished my work and I found this tome and couldn't help but look though it and-"

"Miss Granger!" Borgin stopped her diatribe with his hand, and then spoke softly.

"What are you doing, holding that tome?" he asked, pointing at the tome in her hand.

"Reading it. Sir!" Hermione replied, her face downcast.

"Do you not know; it is a book on the dark arts? Surely your professors in school have told you all about the dark arts, how they are evil and should be destroyed." He countered with a taunt in his tone.

Hermione inclined her head narrowly.

"Yes sir."

"Then? What are you doing with that tome?"

"I like learning magic. I want to be the best at it. Magic makes me feel..." she felt a euphoria at the thought, " _special_ ".

"Indeed?" Borgin asked with a sly smile.

"Tell me Miss Granger, have you read any other books of such questionable nature before this?" He smirked at her wide eyes, "of course, I promise to keep the fact secret."

Hermione nodded. "I did make some notes from a dark arts book I found in school."

"what book was that?" Borgin asked out of general curiosity.

"Secrets of the Darkest arts." Hermione mumbled.

Borgin's eyes widened. Whatever he might have been expecting, this was not it. A fourteen-year-old, muggleborn girl, was somehow able to grasp the sordid details in the two most repugnant dark arts creations ever. It was completely shocking. The girl, Granger, had an affinity for dark magic, no doubt. Perhaps he was witnessing the rise of another Dark Lady. It was completely mind boggling how a fourteen-year-old girl was able to hold the tome she was holding since the last twenty minutes at least. A normal witch or wizard should have suffered mental spasms by now, given the polluted aura of the tome. He knew what was to be done.

"Tell me Miss Granger, would you like to own that tome? "

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Along with a couple more of such tomes? Of course, you would have to continue working for me until your holidays are over. I would even give you permission to study from the shelves in here in your free time. I know where you stay. You can spend the day here, only to return back for your sleep at the rent house."

"Thank you very much for your offer, Mr. Borgin, but.," Hermione's eyes narrowed, "no offence, but why are you suddenly acting so...magnanimous? What do you want in return?"

 _She could have been a good Slytherin._

"I want nothing in return Miss Granger. Your services in bookkeeping are enough for me. It's nice to see a young woman like you taking interest in the ... finer things of magic. I always encourage such people who are able to look beyond the cover and try to grasp the archaic secrets of forbidden magic."

Hermione's eyes flashed in merriment.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

"Masters of the Illusory arts know that reality is just a perception of the senses. Not just our physical ones, but also our magical senses. Our magical senses can feel much-"

"Excuse me, Master" Harry interrupted. "did you say magical senses? As in plural? There is just one magical sense, I mean the one by which we sense magical spells, wards and stuff, right?"

Salazar smirked at him. "Of course."

He continued. "So as I was saying, magical senses help us in perceiving not just what is around us, but what can or will be around us. However, Illusory magic is based on not just fooling one's magical senses, but also changing their perception of reality. A true Illusionist can capture his opponents in his own self-created reality, a place where he is God."

"What happens when the Illusionist is overpowered?" Harry asked.

 _How does his mind flit from being a dumbass one moment to being a perceptive genius the next?_ Salazar wondered.

"You have rather quickly grasped the main weakness behind Illusory magic. If the Illusionist is overpowered, the Illusion ends. That is exactly why Illusionists always attack from the shadows."

Harry nodded in appreciation.

"That goes for causing an illusion. As for the attacks, an Illusionist calls for energy from the Chaos Dimension. Think of it as a plane with infinite reserves of magical energy. There is a threshold energy level that can be safely withdrawn from the Chaos without having any repercussions. However, should you draw out energy more than that, the effects are detrimental."

"What kind of effects?"

"The most common. You start falling into the illusions cast on you by the Chaos Dimension. Knowing what you know about it, the Illusions are nearly permanent and hellishly difficult to break out of. Most Illusionists fail in this part of the path to master forbidden magicks."

Something inside Harry bugged him as he heard his mentor talk about the Chaos. He could not explain what he felt, but the chaos felt similar and unknown to him at the same time. The feeling was inexplicable.

If Salazar had noticed Harry's change of expression, he did not show it. He continued with his diatribe. "The fundamental point here is that we use this Chaos energy to fuel our spells, create illusions, perform magic. The energy that answers our call is raw energy, waiting to be molded in the hands of the Illusionist. It can be anything and everything. A blade, a shield, a dark curse, a light spear, anything and everything _except a derivative of soul magic_."

"Soul magic." Harry took a moment to understand the implications of what his mentor taught him. "Because of the intent?"

"Because of the composition. To cast a spell based on soul magic, Avada Kedavra for instance, would require you to place your intent right at soul level. You need to feel the intent wholly and completely, and embrace that you are going to mutilate another soul. You need to accept what you are going to do."

"The way you sound it, it sounds complicated. But the death eaters were supposedly able to cast the spell very casually." Harry questioned.

"Once you perform the killing curse, it destroys the rigidity of your soul. You don't surely think that you could obliterate the connection another soul has to a body, without effecting your own soul in the process. _Something happens to wizards who kill_. Your soul gets fragmented, maimed _and inverses your Occlumency upon itself_. It inhibits your emotions and makes you more susceptible to further killing."

"A vicious cycle. Killing becomes easy once you have already killed someone." Harry enunciated.

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Salazar appreciated.

Harry nodded, feeling better already after receiving some appreciation after a long time.

"Back to the Illusory arts. We will not pursue the more theoretical approaches to the arts until you are comfortable in dealing with the two basic practical techniques. The Clypeus shield and the Illusion blade. The shield will help you parry any attacks on yourself," he cast a pointed look at Harry, "any attack. Even the Avada Kedavra theoretically. It is a shield that is completely based on intent. Your intent to deflect the attack must be stronger than the intent of the killing curse. It is no easy, but it is possible."

"have you ever done it, Master?" Harry could not hold himself back from saying.

"one does not get through countless battles without being the center of attraction for killing curses. There are only so many times you could conjure a stone slab in front of you to save yourself."

Harry could not help but stand in awe at his mentor.

"But remember, only do this if it is the last resort. We do not want the world to know that you are capable of wielding illusory weapons."

Harry nodded in silence.

"As for the blade, it is one that can cut through any shield. The principle is similar, yet opposite. Your intent at breaching the shield must be greater than your opponent's intent to hold the shield. But I forewarn you, mastering these techniques is not easy. I would be surprised if you would be able to do it at all." He cast a challenging look at his apprentice.

Harry's face scrunched up at the challenge. He hated when people didn't think him strong or old enough. All his life he had had to live up to confrontations, and he hated it when somebody told him that he was hopeless at something. He would show Salazar that he had in him to master the two techniques.

"So how do I conjure the shield?"

"I will show you. Follow me."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy regarded himself as the epitome of Slytherin values. A pureblood of good pedigree, he had access to tons of old money, or at least enough to buy out any government official and donate in charities without making a dent in his fortune. He had successful business ventures throughout the world, both magical and mundane, although most of his success was because of his mundane investments, not that he would accept it in public. Mundanes were after all, savages who lived in huts and had no magic. Lucius smirked.

The previous Wizengamot session had been rather benumbing. No one in the right mind could accept the fact that there was a new Lord Slytherin in town. Hell, Lucius had his wand in his grasp, ready to look behind, in fear of hearing his ex-master's voice booming in the corridor. He knew it was a wildly foolish imagination, but something about the Slytherin Lordship grated his nerves.

The dark lord was supposedly the heir of Slytherin, and it was obvious that someday he would take over its lordship. Lucius may have been a death eater, but he was no idiot. To say that he was disappointed when the dark lord did not take up the lordship would not do justice to his emotions. Lucius was flabbergasted, completely perturbed by the fact that his 'Lord' had rejected the lordship and resorted to 'hit-and-run' tactics. That was the act of a terrorist, not a high and mighty lord of a prestigious House like Slytherin.

The Malfoys were a branch of the French Malfoire family and had emigrated to Britain in the early 1600's. Pureblood of the highest order, the family had its original roots going back to before the Viking invasion. Being a quintessential Slytherin, Lucius had been instructed by his father about the treaties that his House had with other families. The most important of them all was the pact with House Slytherin. Lucius's great Grandfather, Hippocrates Malfoy had been a confederate of Slytherin House, which had supposedly squibbed out in the years to follow. It was therefore a very pleasant surprise when Lucius had known that the dark lord had been the heir of Slytherin. His proof, the fact that the dark lord was a Parseltongue. Parselmouths were rare, and the most recent one of them had existed around 600 years ago. That made his lord's claim sound more legitimate. Although that never stopped Lucius from wondering why his Lord would choose to be addressed by a made up name. Any sensible person could figure out that the name was made up. The dark lord had no surname when he could go by Slytherin; and unless his name was 'Lord' and he was born into the 'Voldemort' family, the name made no sense. Lucius suspected his lord was an illegitimate child. Bastard or not, the man had power, and tons of it; and Lucius would be damned if he did not utilize his lord's power and influence to increase his own power, and of course, the Pureblood propaganda.

Then, his lord was obliterated from existence by a fifteen-month old boy.

Lucius had barely kept himself out of prison by donating generous amounts to charity and to the minister's election fund, but many of his associates were not so lucky enough. He saw his extended family, the Lestranges go to prison, claiming their devotion to the dark lord, to be more than anything. They were behaving like a bunch of HufflePuffs for Merlin's sake, what with the way they embraced prison time instead of giving out information about the Dark Lord's plans. At least Karkaroff had the presence of mind to do that.

For thirteen years, Lucius had wormed his way out, using deceit and cunning, often hiding behind a veneer of civil magnanimity. He had the ear of the minister, he had his successful ventures, he held a powerful position in the Wizengamot, he was a Governor of Hogwarts, and importantly, he was successfully molding the world in his image of a Pureblood. Easily and peacefully, unlike what his self-styled Dark Lord had done. He wasn't a betrayer to the dark regime, he was a Slytherin, and acted like one, a perfect opportunist.

Everything had been great until 1991.

Harry Potter had entered the game.

His son had acted like a buffoon and Potter had rejected a potential ally in return. Lucius was mad over it for days. He had asked Draco to subtly test out Potter and bring him into an alliance with the Malfoy family. He knew that Potter came from old money, and with his status as the Boy-who-lived, the boy would make political waves in future. But instead, his son had committed all sorts of tomfoolery all year and made Potter his potential enemy, instead of an ally.

The next year, Lucius was shocked to know that the Chamber of Secrets was open. He knew that the diary was a dark artifact, it had to be one, given how the Dark Lord was so protective about it. It had been twelve years since the Dark Lord was gone and Arthur Weasley, curse that moron, was rummaging through pureblood homes, searching for presence of potential dark artifacts. He knew that the diary was one, Merlin knows even Borgin refused to buy it. It seemed like a very Slytherin plan to put it into the Weasley girl's basket. If things played out right, the diary would be found and Lucius could use the opportunity to create more problems for Weasley. But cursed luck, the diary had not been found. Instead, the Chamber of secrets was opened once more and the _'horror within'_ was unleashed. Lucius had spent weeks worrying about the detrimental effects his idea had produced. He could never forgive himself if something had happened to his only son. Draco might be a buffoon but he was his only son, and Lucius chose family above everything else. His worries came to an end when he got a missive from Hogwarts that the horror had been stopped.

Once again, it had been Harry Potter.

Lucius could have used the opportunity to familiarize himself with Potter, but cursed luck, Potter was already antagonistic towards him. The boy was already playing into Dumbledore's hands and waving the bloody _sword of Godric Gryffindor_. He right away pointed to Lucius as guilty of the entire situation and Dumbledore had been smirking at him all along. Lucius had been enraged by all means. To add to that, the boy _just had to_ trick him and lose him his elf. Blasted brat! Lucius had lost all control and was about to curse the brat when that blasted elf had hurled him away by five feet. Who knew house elves packed such a punch?

It gave him nightmares on a few occasions.

And now, there was this new Lord of Slytherin. A lord who had joined hands with Sirius Black, the new Lord Black and joined the neutral circle. Lucius was completely stumped at the revelation. He knew Sirius Black as a prime example of Gryffindor, he should have run with his tail entwined in his legs, running to join Dumbledore and his merry men. Instead, he broke away and joined Slytherin House with the neutral banner. What was the deal between the two and Greengrass?

 _Greengrass._

Lucius blinked.

A wild thought flitted through his mind.

Daphne Greengrass was dating Harry Potter. Draco had written to him about that.

Potter was a Parseltongue.

Potter had defeated the horror inside the chamber, which was later revealed to be a mighty basilisk.

Potter had defeated the Dark Lord, the apparent heir of Slytherin.

James Potter had no Slytherin blood. But Lily Potter? Muggleborn? Was she tested for inheritance?

Could Lily Potter been an heir of Slytherin too? Perhaps from some squibs?

Sirius Black was Potter's Godfather.

Sirius Black had chosen to join arms with House Slytherin, instead of Dumbledore.

Harry Potter was Lord Slytherin.

Blink.

There was a pause.

"AAAARGHHH!"

Harry Potter was the blasted Lord of Slytherin.

It all made sense. But at the same time, it changed things.

Lucius would have to ponder over it. Perhaps it was time he took the situation into his own hands. Leaving it to Draco would not do it. Not at all.

"Dolly?" he called for his new house elf. "Bring me a parchment and the ink, and the official seal too from my study."

He had work to do.

* * *

 **AUTHOR NOTES :**

 **I have decided to finally answer out a couple of questions asked to me by my precious readers in the reviews.**

 **The little girl. No, I am not yet saying who she is. I know a lot of people have guessed her identity, but there is more to her than what meet's the eye.**

 **Dumbledore** **did not overpower the Room of Requirement. He is the headmaster and lets just say, 'there are some.. advantages of being the headmaster'. He simply sent his intent as the Headmaster, kind of a veto power over the castle.** **.**

 **Yes Dumbledore is almost happy with Harry now playing at Wizengamot level. the keyword being 'almost'.**

 **Yes, Hermione character is heavily influenced from Morgana, hell I mentioned that in a previous note.**

 **No Salazar has not gone round the twist. I believe that it is possible to have a Harry Potter story that has more than two agendas in it. The canon story showed just two, one- Harry Potter surviving his annual challenges from Voldemort, and two, Dumbledore's planning. My story has characters having their own agendas and Harry is at the center of it. Just not Voldemort. This is AU and not limited to the HP-Voldemort struggle storyline. You might have already guessed that part. :P**

 **Harry did not quit Quidditch. I plan on giving a take on Quidditch in the next couple of chapters.**

 **There is a downside of Portrait to ghost transmutation. No I am not saying what it is.**

 **Yes, my hero is always fainting. He is a 13 year old boy and learning magic. He is not some super powered WARGOD that shoots his enemies down right and left. Harry is growing strong and he will have his victories, but "time"...**

 **Cyrus Greengrass sent a Patronus(eagle) to Dumbledore and called him for help.**

 **Magic demanded the price. The bigotry was started by narrow minded individuals. that's just like blaming social media sites for potential threats to children. We are responsible for our actions.**

 **That's for now! reviews everyone! and thank you.**


	39. ROTD 39 : An overdue conversation

**A few months later...**

Harry Potter walked into the Chamber of Secrets. The last couple of months had passed in a sequential training regime. He would attend his trainings with Flitwick and McGonagall, and have occasionally the Headmaster would call on him for some discussions on magical theory and spell creation. He had made peace with the Headmaster over their past issues and both were working towards a more sustainable working relationship for the future. It all happened one night, during his training with the headmaster.

 **FLASHBACK**

"So Harry, are you prepared for the tournament?"

Nodding in acceptance, Harry replied, "I am."

"I heard Filius is quite giddy at his chance at reentering the dueling circuit to back his protégé." He winked at Harry who blushed slightly.

"Professor Flitwick is an amazing teacher and duelist. I am rather lucky he chose me to prepare and participate at the tournament."

"Don't sell yourself short Harry. Filius has been rather raving about how prodigious you are." Dumbledore laughed with mirth.

Seeing that his student would not give back a reply, he continued. "I... wanted to talk to you about... certain things Harry. I believe it is good if we stop dancing around the topic and talk directly."

"What would be that, Headmaster?" Harry asked, raising his Occlumency shields.

"Well... firstly I would like to apologize to you for not taking your concerns seriously. You have to understand that the situation after... your parent's death, was not safe, particularly for you. I wanted to keep you away from the wizarding world, and Petunia seemed like the best alternative. I fashioned out blood wards out of your mother's blood, and ... they protected you rather well... from wizards, that is."

"What about the dangers inside the house, Headmaster?" Harry asked, very slowly.

"I admit, I did not think that Petunia would do any harm to her own blood, after all, you were her sister's son."

"Tell me Headmaster, did you ask her particularly to accept me into the family?" Harry urged.

Dumbledore nodded in denial. "I had Professor McGonagall watching the family for two days. The blood wards would work only if Petunia would take you in, on her own accord. I feared that if I would talk to her, she would perhaps resort to accepting some remuneration for her service. That would not work in communion to the blood wards. Hence..."

"You left me at their doorstep." Harry finished.

Albus Dumbledore sighed. He looked as if he had aged a couple of decades. "I have apologized to you already, but I did what I thought could be done best. I know I made many mistakes but they were kept with your safety in mind. I even put Arabella there next to the Dursleys so that she could watch upon you."

"The cat lady? Arabella Figg?" Harry asked in wonder.

"The very same. She reported to me every month about your growth and your living conditions."

"didn't she say anything about how I was treated?"

"Arabella never saw you outside much, and thought that you were a sickly child. Plus, Petunia did not want any magical interference so I stayed away from you. I believed that I would reintroduce you to the magical world and ... your heritage when you returned."

"And yet I had to find it on my own." Harry replied sardonically.

"I wanted to show you your heritage at the end of your first year. But your altercation with Voldemort spoiled my plans. Getting your heritage tested would have revealed many questions that I was not ready to answer then."

"Will you answer them now, Headmaster?" Harry questioned.

"Some, perhaps. Depends on your questions."

Harry nodded.

"I came to know that you had been taken away by the Weasleys. They are an old pureblood family and I thought that would help you realign yourself with your magical heritage. Unfortunately, Molly Weasley did not believe in overburdening you with your duties and heritage then. She thought you were too small for that."

 _Really? I didn't know that. Tell me more..._

Harry suppressed his urge to retaliate and nodded.

"You know how the second year continued, what with the Chamber being opened, and everything that followed. I had hoped that Ron Weasley would be instrumental in teaching you about your past."

"Ron Weasley is not my friend anymore Headmaster. He has betrayed me and joined hands with Malfoy."

Dumbledore sighed. Ron Weasley was indeed, a disappointment. He would have to talk to Molly about it.

"Yes, I heard about that. I am saddened that your original friends have broken off but at the same time, I am glad you have found new friends. Especially, Miss Greengrass has been a good influence on you."

Not receiving any reply, he continued. "Back to recent events then. I know you are emancipated, and that you hold the lordships of Potter and Slytherin. I have a few questions on that matter, if you will indulge me."

"You may ask Headmaster, but I cannot promise to answer," came Harry's stiff reply.

"very well..."

"How did you become Lord Slytherin, Harry?"

Harry smirked. He had had this discussion with Salazar already. "I wrote to Gringotts regarding any information about my parent's wills and my fortune. They had provided me with a portkey which I used to travel to their premises. I had a heritage test performed on me and it revealed that I held the lordships of Potter and Slytherin, the latter through my mother's side."

"So Lily was born of Slytherin heritage? But she wasn't a parselmouth?" the headmaster queried.

"Her magic wasn't potent enough to reveal Parseltongue abilities."

Dumbledore nodded and proceeded. "I also have a question about your surprising magical potency Harry. No offence but, your performance in the first two years was rather average if at all, while this year, it has been rather... exemplary. I would want to know; why exactly had you been hiding your abilities for the first two years? And why reveal them now?"

Harry stood up and turned to Fawkes. The phoenix was rather chirpy that evening. Stroking his golden plumes affectionately, he replied. "For the first six years of my life headmaster, I knew my name was Freak."

Dumbledore's eyes widened at the revelation. He could not believe that he had left the boy at such hostile conditions.

Harry continued. "I have always been called worthless. Till Hagrid came along, I believed my parents were drunkards and had died in a car crash. The Dursleys... they had me slave all day from dawn to dusk, doing all their chores, pulling the weeds, cooking their meals, washing and everything else. I was their servant, and I used to remain unfed for days if I ever made a mistake."

Harry paused for a moment and continued. "When I brought home my first exam results, they beat me and threw me into my cupboard for three days, without any proper meals. They would throw in a water bottle at times though. And that was because I had scored better than Dudley."

Dumbledore's eyes watered at the reality that Harry was showing him. It was unfathomable to him that the boy had survived such an environment for ten years and yet become the person who stood in front of him. The boy should have become a nastier version of Tom Riddle, not a generous person like Harry Potter.

"Cupboard?" Dumbledore squeaked.

"Yes Professor. My cupboard. The one under the stairs. That was my residence for ten years."

"But that house has four bedrooms!" Dumbledore shouted out indignantly.

"yes, one was for my aunt and uncle, one for the guests, one for Dudley and one for his broken toys. It was only after Hagrid visited me that they gave me the fourth one, because they feared they were being watched."

"Harry! I know I have apologized to you, but that does not make my failures any less. I swear I had no idea that the situation was this dire. I know I am late, and I know you are emancipated and have your own manor and everything, but I promise to stand by you and help you when you need it. I know Voldemort is behind you, and I know that he is powerful and much more knowledgeable than you, but you won't be alone _. I will even the odds for you_."

Harry stood silently. He had not expected this sort of empathic reaction from the usually stoic and cheerful Headmaster. "Then, tell me why Voldemort is behind me! I asked you that after my first year, but you deflected the question then. Will you tell me now?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot tell you that unless you are trained in Occlumency."

Harry looked down for a moment, and then looked at the Headmaster in the eye, and sent a powerful magical foray. Dumbledore was surprised, but deflected it away. A smile pervading his face, he exclaimed. "you are a little well of surprises, aren't you my boy?"

"I try." Harry replied sardonically.

"Very well. There was a prophecy."

"A prophecy?" Harry reverberated.

"What do you know about prophecies, Harry?"

"Not much." Harry knew he was treading on risky grounds right now. "I know that prophecies are. Sort of... predictions of the future made by seers, usually before some major event."

"You are correct, Harry. You see, there was a prophecy made to me by Professor Trelawney in 1980. A prophecy that marked the vanquishing of the dark lord."

Harry blinked. He knew there had to be some reason that Voldemort had come to kill him again and again. But that there was a prophecy behind all that, it just dazzled his mind.

"Do you ... know the contents of the Prophecy?"

Dumbledore looked at his student for a moment. "I do."

Harry knew how his mentor felt about prophecies. Prophecies were very ambiguous, and often resulted in a lot of hair splitting over it, trying to decipher their meaning. Harry framed his next words very carefully.

"Does Voldemort know about the contents of the prophecy?"

"Only the beginning I am afraid."

"Then I do not want to know the contents."

Dumbledore stood stupefied. Here he was, trying to think of ideas about how to make his student forget about the prophecy, when Harry had stumped him again.

"Are... you. Are you sure, Harry?"

"I have my own reasons, professor. If I need to know it, I shall ask it from you later."

"You never cease to amaze me my boy."

Harry smiled.

"Can we assume that Voldemort will keep coming for me till I am dead?" Harry asked.

"You may." Dumbledore quipped.

"Thank you for answering that honestly professor. I have to prepare for the tournament. I should leave."

"Very well... off you go. Good night Harry."

"Good night sir."

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

"Back again, apprentice?"

"yes."

"And are you done, writing the letter?" Salazar asked.

Harry displayed the parchment in his hand. He had written to Madam Marchbanks, the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, requesting her for a venue and time for appearing for his OWL examinations earlier, that is to say, in August, if possible. He had asked for OWL exams in DADA, Transfiguration, Charms, Runes and Arithmancy. He had also applied for some certification examinations for elective subjects like Basic Alchemy, Dueling and Warding.

"I suppose that should go fine for now. Gives you an entire year for NEWTS at the end of your fourth year."

"I suppose that will be some sort of record." Harry wondered.

"Well, it should. You are MY heir, after all." Salazar exclaimed.

 _And the boasting continues..._

"Despite, "he continued with a sour expression, "you not being able to conjure the blade yet."

Harry looked away sheepishly. Despite trying every single day, he was still unable to conjure the Illusion blade. Salazar had deemed him a lost cause and stopped all instruction in Illusions, instead tutoring him on other facets of magic.

"I am trying." Harry gritted his teeth.

"Let me know when you succeed." Salazar blew away his resolve.

* * *

The final game of Quidditch was approaching. The Gryffindors were supposed to face Slytherin in the finals the next day, and Harry was anticipating the game very much. It would be his first game on his Firebolt, and while he missed his previous broom, it had nothing on the improved facilities that the Firebolt provided. It was no coincidence that it was the broom that was chosen for the Quidditch Championship that year.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Harry walked towards the owlery. It had been over a week that he had spent some time with Hedwig. Although knowing her, she would forgive him., although some bacon would be of considerable help too. She was annoyed sure, but she would forgive him. He smirked to himself at the thought.

Reaching the Owlery, he braced himself for what was to come. No sooner had he entered, there was a flash of white feathers and almost instantly, he felt a tight slap on the back of his head.

"OW! Hedwig! That hurt! "he cried out good naturedly.

Hedwig flew away and sat on a distant pane, looking away from him.

Smiling at his pet's antics, he walked over to her and slowly starting petting her white plumes. "come on Hedwig, I even brought you bacon!"

Hedwig cast a withering glare at him for a moment, and then swooped away the bacon. Flying a loop, she returned back to his shoulder and nibbled his earlobes softly.

"I knew, you would not be able to resist me, Hedwig!" Harry laughed.

At that private moment, a huge barn owl came flapping her wings and dropped a letter in front of him.

 _Is that for me?_

Picking it up, Harry saw the Malfoy crest on top of the envelope.

Opening the letter, he saw the contents and stood still, figuring out the ramifications.

The letter read...

 **To Harry Potter,**

 **The Lord Slytherin,**

 **I wish to meet with you and discuss about the future of the treaty between House Malfoy and House Slytherin. I know that things between us have been rather... unpleasant in the past. But letting bygones be bygones, I wish to meet you and decide about the future of our Houses. Please inform me about the time and venue as per your convenience.**

 **Thank you,**

 **Lucius Malfoy,**

 **The Lord of ancient and noble house of Malfoy.**

* * *

 **####Review! Review! And please, vote on the poll.**


	40. ROTD 40 : Patronuses and Quidditch

When Harry, Daphne and their group of friends entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing they saw was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining his group of henchmen, which also constituted Ron Weasley, with a very funny story. As they passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

"Why is he swooning like that and pointing to me?" Harry asked, more to himself than others.

"Ignore him." Daphne remarked, close behind.

As the group sat today at the HufflePuff table, at Susan's insistence, Daphne held up the day's newspaper and read out. Pointing to the headlines, she waved the paper to Harry.

" **PETER PETTIGREW SPOTTED NEAR HOGWARTS! MINISTER ORDERS DEMENTORS BACK TO PATROL THE GATES!**

 **Based on our legitimate sources, Peter Pettigrew, the notorious criminal and death eater, betrayer of the Potters was once again spotted at Hogsmeade! Minister Fudge has seen to it immediately and saw fit for the return of the Dementors back to patrol at the Hogwarts gates. The minister went on to say that the Dementors had done a fine job previously during the unfortunate hunt for Sirius Black, who had later been proved innocent at his trial.**

 **For more information on Peter Pettigrew, please see Page 3.**

 **For more information on Sirius Black, please see page 5.**

 **What researchers have to say about the effects of Dementors, please see page 6.**

Harry turned the paper over, and kept it down. The Dementors were back to torment him. Magic knew he already had more than enough troubles to deal with. He had still not mastered his elemental abilities enough, and the last time had been luck. Looking up at Malfoy and his antis, he now understood what Malfoy was doing. The brat reminded him of the letter he had received from his father. Deciding to talk about the issue with Salazar, Harry went back to his breakfast.

* * *

"What do you suggest?"

"You are the present Lord Slytherin. This is your first foray into the political domains. I would think you would like to do it as you thought best."

Harry eyed his mentor with a scowl. "I have an idea in mind. I just wanted to know your thoughts."

"Okay", Salazar replied, his face expressionless. "What do you know in personal, about the Lord Malfoy?"

"His son is a git of the highest order, and believes himself as the epitome of Slytherin values, and boasts about his dad all day," Harry saw Salazar glance at him with a scowl, "and he is a bigot, and I will just shut up now."

"I asked about the Lord, not his son." Salazar reprimanded.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Thinking his next words, he began, "Lucius Malfoy was a death eater, and supposedly the left hand of Voldemort. After my mother and I vanquished him, Lucius Malfoy supposedly bought his way out of prison. He is a governor of the school and has friends in high places."

"So he could be a useful ally." Salazar mused.

"I am not going to ally myself with a servant of the man that killed my parents."

"oh bring yourself down from your high horse boy!" Salazar berated him. "That oaf you call a dark lord, has disgraced the name of my family, and my legacy, more than you understand. And also, he has destroyed thousands of lives in the war. Just because he killed your parents, doesn't grant you exclusive rights to hating him. There is a place for vengeance, but this is not it. Stop sticking your head inside your arse and think out of the box. The wizarding world has more agendas in it than your personal vendetta against Voldemort."

Harry nodded.

"That letter suggests that the Lord Malfoy is being extremely cunning and opportunistic in this case. Whatever you told me about him is just hearsay. I would suggest you meet with him and talk about the issues at large. Keep him at arm's length, but do not turn back what can be a potential ally. Ask for an oath if necessary, but do not let this meeting go in vain. You still have much to learn before you are ready to take on the Lordship politically, my boy."

Harry nodded in silence. Salazar was right. His personal vendetta against Voldemort had limited him with a tunnel vision of right and wrong. The world was more than that two-dimensional thought process. He would have to up his game.

"Write him back. Meet up at some neutral venue if necessary. I would choose Gringotts, if it were me." Salazar replied.

"So be it." Harry murmured.

"Now, it is time I taught you something interesting!" Salazar commented out loudly.

His face lighting up, Harry looked up to his mentor. "Are we returning to Illusions?"

"No." he paused, "We are going to work with the Patronus."

Harry's facial expression shifted from excitement to disappointment and then back to happiness.

"We are?"

"Yes. Now that you have attained sufficient prowess in Occlumency, I have a way of teaching you how to cast a Patronus."

"That would be great, since the Dementors are returning back to Hogwarts." Harry exclaimed.

"Why would that be happening again? I thought your godfather was set free." Salazar scowled.

"Peter Pettigrew was spotted in Hogsmeade, and so..." He left unfinished.

"Regardless, I shall now be teaching you the Patronus Charm. The incantation is "Expecto Patronum". The wand movement, immaterial since it is esoteric magic. You need to focus on your happiest feelings, or memory if that is easier to you. Remember, the feel is important. You must allow yourself to feel happy, despite the anathema all around you, trying to suck your soul out. Only then, will you be able to cast a perfect Patronus. I shall create an illusion that shall mimic the effects caused by the Dementor's aura, only that it won't have any impact on your core. You ready?"

Harry thought for a while, about his happiest memory. Getting one, he shook his head. "Let's get started."

* * *

After two hours of trial and attempt, Harry was still able to get only mist, albeit a very thick mist that could act as a decent shield, but he was still scores away from getting something definite.

"Let's try again. Focus on your emotion." Salazar ordered and cast an illusion n Harry. Immediately the Chamber disappeared and was replaced by Peter torturing him under the Cruciatus. The illusion was so real that Harry could even feel echoes of the curses that Memory-Peter cast at him.

 _ **Crucio!" Peter whispered as Harry let out a grating scream, his muscles now over fatigued and in sprain. He had no idea how much longer he would be able to hold on and not succumb into unconsciousness.**_

"Stop!" Harry shouted out. Waving his wand high, he yelled, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

The mist waded out of his hand once again but Salazar strengthened his illusion. After a couple of seconds, the mist faded away without hampering the illusion at all.

 _ **"Do you know how the Dark Lord tortured your mudblood mother Harry? Did you know how she screamed? Just like you will scream now... Crucio!"**_

 _"_ _Stop that..." Harry gritted his teeth._

 _The picture before him vanished. He saw his parents._

 **"** ** _Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"_**

 **"** ** _Fool, you think you can defeat me without your wand? Avada Kedavra!"_**

"Stop! Stop it!" His fingers clenched deep inside his palm, the blood starting seeping out from the punctures.

 _ **A man garbed in a dark cloak held a wand. As green light shot from it, the woman who stood protectively in front of him died, her body crumpling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. She landed face up instead of face down, allowing him to see her face. Even though her eyes were lifeless, they seemed to ask him a question. "Why couldn't you save me?"**_

"STOP!" Harry roared out, and suddenly there was complete silence. His magic flared out, he dazzling light blinding everything on its way, as his hands got enveloped in golden flames. His eyes, which were always emerald green, now glowed with a golden hue. He shifted his palms in front of his hand, and focused on his intent to protect himself.

A glowing red ball of flames started emerging where his palms met.

Salazar stared open eyed at his apprentice. His heir, his descendant, was finally learning to use his real powers. He was finally using his elemental core. There was hope, finally.

 _"_ _Yes! Yes! Use it damn it. Use it just like you did it when you burnt that usurper to a crisp! Use it, damn it!"_

The crimson fire ball slowly morphed into a large shape. Salazar could not understand what it was, but knew it was a big creature. The creature of raw energy pulsed with a dazzling light, and formed its smooth reptilian body. The wings erupted from the back of its spine as it opened its golden eyes and roared.

 _A Quetzalcoatl!_

 _The Eveningshade totem..._

 _An elemental Patronus..._

Salazar could not believe his eyes. An elemental Patronus, that too a corporeal one, stood shining in all its glory. The Illusion he had cast faded from reality quicker than he understood. The fiery Patronus stood guard, protecting its caster, who stood his ground, trying hard to not to sway.

Salazar stood in wonder. He drifted towards the Patronus, the light dazzled so brightly it hurt even his eyes. Mesmerized, he bared a hand towards the elegant creature...

 _Evolette..._

Harry swayed. His eyes returning back to his emerald sheen, as he witnessed his first Patronus, although it wasn't misty and white like Salazar had said it would. But whatever it was, Harry felt a bond of familiarity to it.

 _That is ...my Patronus?_

"Let it go! Harry!" Salazar's soft voice reverberated.

Harry felt the magic of the spell strain his reserves.

"Was it any better?" he asked, numbly.

"yes...very!" Salazar looked at his heir. "You made your family proud. An elemental Patronus at your age. You will be great; I knew but now I believe. Someday you will stand above all, with others stuck in your shadow."

Harry smiled. This was the best compliment he had been awarded by his Master since his apprenticeship.

"We will work on this from tomorrow. Also, "Salazar paused for a while, "think of a good memory. That Patronus, it was completely unexpected. As spectacular as it was, it did not require a happy memory to procure it, just intent and energy. A normal Patronus, does not require so much energy, so it might be better to master it as well."

Harry nodded and left the Chamber.

* * *

It was time for the final Quidditch match of the year. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Harry Potter versus Draco Malfoy. The bets were placed, the odds were set, and the attraction of the finale was stolen away by Harry's new broom, the Firebolt. Even Madam Hooch, who was otherwise a very stoic individual, couldn't stop herself from taking the Firebolt from Harry's hand, and give them her personal opinion.

"Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail end — you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows — a pity they've stopped making them. I learned to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too..."

She continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said, "Err — Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Harry has the Firebolt back? The match needs to start..."

"Oh — right — here you are, then, Potter," said Madam Hooch. "I'll sit over here with the rest. Have a good match, Potter."

"Err... thank you, Madam Hooch." Harry replied back.

And at long last, Harry mounted his Firebolt, and kicked off from the ground. It was better than he'd ever dreamed. The Firebolt turned with the lightest touch; it seemed to obey his thoughts rather than his grip; it sped across the field at such speed that the stadium turned into a green-and-gray blur; Harry turned it so sharply that Alicia Spinnet screamed, then he went into a perfectly controlled dive, brushing the grassy field with his toes before rising thirty, forty,

fifty feet into the air again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Quidditch final of the season. Its Gryffindor versus Slytherin and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to _Which Broomstick,_ the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the

national teams at this year's World Championship —"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information." He continued with his description, "The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —"

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal..."

Harry saw Malfoy marking him continuously, and smirked. He knew that Malfoy had a faster broom the previous year, but this time, Harry had the large end of the stick. Added to his seeking skills, there was absolutely no way that Malfoy would be able to spot the snitch before him. Looking past the Slytherin goal posts, he saw Flint and Bale marking Angelina continuously. Smirking to himself, he pointed his broom sharply and accelerated his broom at a breakneck speed.

Draco saw Harry pursue towards the goal posts and realized that Harry must have spotted the snitch. Pulling his broom, he dove behind his arch enemy with the fullest acceleration. Potter had a faster broom than him, and there was no way he would lose to him again.

Harry felt Malfoy swoop behind him and sped up his motion. Realizing that Malfoy was trying to overtake him, he swung sharply to his left and prevented Malfoy from coming, and then again to his right when Malfoy tried from the opposite side. This move could make or break and there was no way he would let the Slytherin team win.

Flint had been consistently trying to hit the dark skinned chaser of Gryffindor since the beginning of the match but with no success so far. Looking ahead sharply he saw Potter diving towards him, obviously trying for the snitch. Smirking, he hit the bludger towards the Gryffindor seeker with his bat, smirking in anticipation of a successful hit. The bludger raced up to its new destination, completely bent on hitting its target.

Harry observed the bludger coming towards him and sensed Malfoy right behind him. With a daring nerve, he jumped off his broom upwards at the last second, as he saw his apparent arch-enemy move ahead, crossing his broom in no time, only to have a head-on collision with an angry bludger. He saw Malfoy get it and fall down swiftly on the ground below. He felt himself drifting down, and being hurled downwards by the enormous pull of gravity. Pointing his wand at top, he summoned his broom which quickly ended up in his hand. Swerving at the last moment, he controlled his fall and rose back in the air.

"Did you...did you watch that?" Lee Jordan commented, rather slowly, as if trying to grasp what had just happened. Pulling himself together from the shock, he shouted out. "Of Course you did! DID YOU SEE HOW HE PULLED OFF FROM HIS BROOM AT THE LAST MINUTE? DID YOU SEE HOW HE SHOT DOWN THE OTHER SEEKER? DID YOU SEE HOW HE TOOK OFF LATER? THAT IS A DEMON ON THE AIR PEOPLE, THE ABSOLUTE FREAKING DEMON IN THE AIR, ...HARRY POTTERRRRR...!" The crowd cheered madly.

Spotting the snitch near one of the Gryffindor goal posts, Harry swerved his broom and drove for it. In a flash, the golden snitch had stopped fluttering its wings and gave in to the hard callused hands of its seeker, Harry Potter.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS! BY 190 POINTS! AND BY EXTENSION, THE QUIDDITCH CUP!" roared the voice of Madam Hooch. The crowds cheered madly as the Gryffindor team danced about, lifting their seeker up in the air.

"HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!"

* * *

 **### I realized that I am terrible at writing up Quidditch matches. So I had to take up portions from the canon matches and add my own to them. Hopefully my attempt was fair enough. Review!**


	41. ROTD 41 : Prophecies and Examinations

**###AUTHOR NOTE:**

 **I am still confused over the fact whether to make the entire tale a trilogy or a quartet. A quartet would make me end the "return of the true descendant" part in third year. But a trilogy would force me to include fourth year into the weave as well. Any suggestions?**

 **Anyways, continue with the story. Please read and review! And please, vote on the POLL!**

* * *

 **The Department of Mysteries.**

Salazar Slytherin faded into existence inside what seemed to be a closed hall way. He knew the hall way too properly to believe what his eyes saw. This was the hall of Prophecy. A little front from where he stood, there began countless rows of shelves, holding nearly a hundred thousand prophecies, that were recorded, studies, analyzed and the researchers would get one more step ahead in analyzing the reality of the Chaos. Salazar had often commented that it was insane of them to do that, but obviously no one ever listened to him on that point. Salazar sighed. To study the Chaos was one thing, but to try determine the reality of something that creates and obliterates countless realities every moment was insanity. As intelligent as the researchers were, they were a little too narrow minded for his tastes, tunneled by their own vision that everything had to make sense. How hard could it be to understand that not everything is supposed to make sense when it comes to reality distortion, but nevertheless, Salazar was nothing if not persistent.

"Wallace!" he called out, and instantly, a hooded operative turned towards him.

"Lord Slytherin! I did not know that you existed back as a ghost. Or is this some new revelation that you just decided to spring upon us." He replied, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"There is a story behind it, but we shall leave it for later. Right now I need to ask you the location of the 147th prophecy."

"The 147th? "the man's voice shook a bit, in curiosity. "You do know that prophecies of the Oracle are prohibited from access, even to us Unspeakables."

"Using my right as _ward holder of Haugh's wards_ , I demand to _touch_ the prophecy that deals with portents of _my_ future."

The hooded man stood silent for a moment, obviously weighing his choices. Finally, he relented and replied. "Very well, come with me"

The unspeakable entered the Prophecy hallway, followed by Salazar. He walked fair distance, before sharply turning to his left and stood in front of a small cabinet.

" _Caput Draconis_." He whispered.

The cabinet suddenly enlarged in size, enough to allow three men to enter it. Wallace and Salazar followed into it, and the door closed. With a silent pop, the cabinet vanished from existence.

Salazar found himself standing in front of, what seemed to him, a clove. Inside were only seven shelves, and sitting atop them were shiny ethereal spheres. Unlike the ones in the halls of Prophecy, these spheres were emitting different hues of light. Salazar drifted to the seventh shelf, and finally found the sphere he was searching for.

"You do know the rules Lord Slytherin. Anything that may happen to you if you touch it, falls under your own actions. We won't be held responsible."

"I know. _I helped design this department after all_." Salazar muttered to himself.

Prophecies. Wonderful things they were. Magic so ethereal and magnificent, that even something intangible like a ghost could touch them. Every prophecy sphere carried an innate curse on it, a curse that would malign the descendants of an individual, should he try to touch a prophecy that did not belong to him by any right. Even then, if the proper owner of a prophecy came along to take the sphere, it depended on the sphere, _how much_ of the prophecy would be revealed.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts. He raised his hand to touch the glass sphere.

It was silence for the first second. Then, a wave of magic danced back and forth as Salazar felt his ethereal body get flared by the lash of the magic. Then, he heard the ominous words...

 ** _"_** ** _The dragon shall roar, the serpent shall strike,_**

 ** _As eternity and reality, fades into Oblivion._**

 ** _This is the knowledge I have for you, about your everlasting damnation..."_**

He rapidly shifted his fingers away. Completely exhausted and frightened, he vanished away.

* * *

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!" Harry shouted as he entered the hospital wing.

Why are you shouting young man? This is a medical wing and I demand-" the nurse began.

"Daphne has been injured" Harry interrupted.

"What? HOW?" the nurse exclaimed.

"I don't know. I felt my ring vibrate. It indicates when she is in danger. When I got to her, she was lying on the floor of the fourth floor corridor, blood seeping out of her body, unconscious."

He pointed at the door. It was Dobby, his house elf, standing there, levitating his betrothed in what seemed to be a _statis_ sphere.

"very well. Help me lift her."

Harry waved his wand and subtly lifted the frail body of his betrothed onto the hospital bed. After a few waves of her wand, the blood vanished off, as she began muttering incantations and waving her wand again.

After what was an anxious minute of waiting, she turned to harry and replied, "Miss Greengrass has been cursed with a dark spell; a severing curse to be exact. I do not know what the curse is but I hope I shall be able to figure it out soon. She has also lost a lot of blood and will need a lot of rejuvenation potions.

Harry sighed in silence. "Please make her well again, Madam Pomfrey."

"I will do what I can."

* * *

 **EARLIER THAT MORNING...**

Hermione was having an attack of anxiety. It was completely natural, she always had one of those during her exams. Today was the practical examinations for Charms and Potions. Knowing Snape, she knew that he would never grade her fairly. Snape seemed to be out for blood when it came to Gryffindor students. She normally did not despise teachers, but Snape somehow seemed to hit her buttons more effectively than the others.

The Potions practical was the first. Hermione walked into the Potions classroom along with Ron Weasley and Parvati Patil. There were also Marietta Edgecombe and Su Li of Ravenclaw in the class along with Draco Malfoy of Slytherin. Professor Snape quickly divided them into pairs, with Ron being paired with that obnoxious git that went by the name of Malfoy. Hermione got partnered with Parvati and the Ravenclaws partnered with each other. They were given to procure a Calming Draught. It was ironical that she had to prepare a calming draught when the class consisted of people who could, in the wink of an eye, vanish away all sorts of calmness away from her mind, namely Snape, Ronald and Malfoy. Sighing to herself, she calmly began working in communion to her Gryffindor partner. Giving them the question, Snape left the hall.

"So the mudblood hadn't been expelled after all?" Draco drawled.

"No, she has been separated from the others, after all, she has tried to murder me. And used a dark curse too! Damn meddling dark scum!" Ron complained snidely.

Hermione felt herself shaking in anger at the insult. Her fingers were twinging in hope to curse Ron and Malfoy to next week and back, but she kept her emotions down. Focusing on the work at hand, she returned back to working on the potion.

"lacewings! I need lacewings for the next part!" Hermione muttered to her partner and went over to the potions cupboard to get her ingredients. Parvati also countered the lack of certain ingredients and followed her.

When they returned, the potion was different. Hermione well remembered that she had put the potion on statis before leaving, but now, the potion was active and well past recovery. The potion had gotten overboiled and without the lacewings, the potion was a poison now as good as any.

"Who removed the statis charm from my potion?" she yelled out.

"What is this commotion about?"answered the voice of Severus Snape, choosing to enter precisely at that moment.

"Professor, Malfoy and his crony sabotaged my potion." Hermione almost yelled out.

"And do you have any proof to further your accusation?"

"I don't...but who else would do that?" Hermione half mumbled.

"perhaps your growing incompetence!" Severus snarled. Walking up to her potion, he vanished the contents. "Failed!" he remarked, "And also, fifteen points from Gryffindor for blaming on others for your own incompetence."

He cast a surly sneer at her and left the room.

"What ever shall she do Ronald? Poor girl could not even pass her exam." Draco replied, in his usual drawling way.

"So much for being the smartest witch!"

Hermione could not take it anymore. She bawled out, crying, and left the exam hall. She never noticed Daphne looking at her in worry.

* * *

"I'm telling you. Something is wrong with Granger. She has been... weird this year!" Tracey said, trying to hold Daphne back.

"I want to know what happened. Malfoy and Weasley were looking so smug when she ran."

"Why do you care? She tried to take Harry away from you!" Tracey countered indignantly.

"Because Harry cares. I have seen him get worried about Hermione whenever there is some situation in which she is involved. He has been itching to enter the situation and talk to her, but for some reason, he has been avoiding Granger, desperately I may add."

"You think Harry is hiding something?" Tracey wondered.

"Perhaps. But I am not going to force him to reveal it."

"You are good for him Daph!" Tracey smiled.

"Now let's go." Daphne replied back, as the duo walked off to Granger's private dorms. Neither of them noticed the pair of brown eyes that followed their departure.

* * *

Hermione Granger was in her room, blasting out pieces of furniture right and left. It had been a horrible day for her. First, the incident in Potions, and then her disastrous performance in Charms. Never had she thought that there would be a day when she would be unable to perform a charm effectively.

After the sorry incident of Potions exam, she had somehow consoled herself to go to her next exam—Charms. This was supposed to be easy. She had memorized and practiced all the charms listed in the text book right at the start of the session. It wouldn't do for her to have less than exemplary results in a school that looked down upon her because of her muggleborn status.

 **FLASHBACK**

Professor Flitwick had invited another examiner from the ministry, Professor Tofty to help him invigilate and conduct the exams efficiently. Hermione had heard the other students say that Professor Tofty was an OWL examiner, and that said, it was completely indispensable for her to give her best performance.

She waited for her turn, and when her name was called, she entered the hall.

There were three more students, Antony Goldstein, Tracy Davis and ...Daphne Greengrass.

Focusing herself away from her not so pleasant thoughts about the Greengrass girl, she steadied herself for her exam. Fortunately, it was Professor Tofty who came for her invigilation. She would show them that she was called the smartest witch for a reason.

"Miss Granger..." professor Tofty began, "I want you to perform the vanishing charm on the dust here", he pointed towards a rather dusty table. Hermione nodded and cast the spell. The dust vanished immediately.

"very well Miss Granger, now can you animate this toy over there so that it would run circles?"

Hermione nodded happily and cast the animating charm. Nothing happened.

She stood in silence for a moment, and then incanted again.

Still no movement.

"Is something wrong Miss Granger?"

"I don't know Professor. The wand movements are correct, but the charm isn't happening." She mumbled, more to herself.

 _Why can't I do this?_

Tofty looked at her with a sad smile and then spoke, "Not to worry Miss Granger, try to perform the banishing charm and banish this pillow to at least four metres." He said, conjuring a soft pillow from the air.

"Sure thing Sir." Hermione replied, and incanted, " _Depulso._ "

Nothing happened.

" _Depulso! Depulso! DEPULSO_!"

The first two incantations had no effect, but the third one caused the pillow to get aflame. With a unholy shriek, Professor Tofty poured conjured water on it, and banished the now half-burnt pillow away.

"You may go, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded meekly in disappointment. She wondered what was wrong with her. She never faced any problems like that before. She was almost falling into her wallowing in self-pity when a sight drove her out of her reveries.

Daphne Greengrass was being praised for her effortless charm casting by Professor Tofty and Flitwick.

Hermione pushed her anger away with a heavy sigh and left the hall.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

" _Tenebris Everbero!"_ Hermione yelled, _"malleo! Eboleo! Excindo!"_

The furniture inside her dorm room blasted and obliterated, as Hermione's fury fueled her curses. Curses, especially dark curses, often had an increased potency when the necessary intent was supplied by emotion. The statues in her room blasted away, the room in ruins compared to what it was before the assault.

There was a knock on the door.

"WHO IS THERE?" Hermione yelled.

The door creaked open and the lithe figures of Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis entered. At her first glance at the familiar face of her competitor and arch rival, her fury dramatically increased, as Hermione yelled out.

"GET OUTTTTT!" The door closed, bending to the will of the angry girl's magic.

* * *

Daphne and Tracy stepped back in time to prevent the door from shutting sharp on their faces.

"Daphne! I think we should leave!" Tracy commented, warily.

"You go and inform Harry. Something is wrong and I need to confirm my suspicions." Daphne all but ordered.

"I am telling you, this is bad idea..." Tracy warned.

"just GO!" Daphne scoffed.

Tracy nodded and left quickly.

After waiting for ten seconds, she took a deep breath and knocked the door again.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened from inside and a very irritated Hermione glared at her from within.

"What do you want?"

"I... heard about what happened to you in Potions. I wanted to know what happened, and well... Harry is worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Hermione asked, sarcastically pointing to her breast. "Why would he be worried about me? He has you wrapped him around your little finger, serving you at every beck and call."

"Look Granger," Daphne paused, "I mean Hermione..."

"NO NO! no need to show me any courtesy! I am just a mudblood bitch, needed to be taught how to kneel and drop at the presence of mighty purebloods."

"Hermione you are not making-"

"Leave Greengrass." Hermione said with a tone of finality, "before I curse you to death."

Daphne sighed in resignation and nodded. Turning behind, she had hardly walked a few steps along the empty corridor, when a flash of crimson hit her from behind in the abdomen. She spun back immediately, as she fell on the floor, her abdomen now frothing with fresh blood oozing through it. She thought she saw a brown-haired figure walk away.


	42. ROTD 42 : Interrogations

**HERMIONE'S DORM...that afternoon.**

Hermione was completely frustrated by the happenings. First, her potion got sabotaged by Weasley, and then she had to face all the blame. Then, her magic started to behave awkwardly and she wasn't able to perform the charms that she knew she could perform them effortlessly in her sleep. And then, _that_ girl just had to be praised in front of her, for her brilliance at charm casting. Hermione had somehow controlled her anger from lashing out. She did not need another visit to the Headmaster's office, and have him poking around her mind and thoughts. She would never have guessed that the Headmaster of all people, would be so nonchalantly breaking the privacy of the students. She wondered if that was why the Pureblood families hated the Headmaster, perhaps they knew about many more proverbial skeletons that lay in the Headmaster's closet.

She had returned back to her dorms, and let her fury out. She knew that it would cause her more emotional turmoil if she tried enclosing it within any further. The reaction was completely expected, as Hermione lost herself in a hailstorm of spells; spells powerful and deadly; spells of a borderline dark nature; spells which she had only read in theory and never believed that someday she would resort to casting them; spells she now cast so effortlessly, as if she had been casting them for years. She wondered if something had happened during the ritual to botch it, or decrease its efficiency. Not for the first time, Hermione chastised herself for being arrogant and careless. She knew she was dealing with deadly magic, and yet she had not taken extreme precautions while performing them. Damn!

Perhaps the botched effects of the ritual were hampering her magic. She was sure that she could find a way to counteract them; and if not, she could at least perform another ritual to augment her magic. She would have to look into that. Hermione felt her emotions slowly come into her control again, when there was a knock on the door.

Irritated by the event, she had rudely shouted out, inwardly hoping that her rudeness might send the incomer back. She saw two figures emerge through the door, and as soon as she realized who the second person was, her slowly numbing down anger shot out to another height of fury. The fact that the door had instantly closed with a reverberating boom was a testament to that fury. How dare that girl come to mock her about her moment of failure? Had she not taken away enough from her?

She heard the door knock again. How irritated she was! Her fingers were twitching, to perform some of the spells she had so effortlessly performed moments ago, she so wanted to give Greengrass a taste of her magic. But that would be inviting more trouble and would cause more problems with Harry. Already that blasted boy was doing all he could to avoid facing her. While she was angry that Harry had been avoiding her, she was not too unhappy about it. Merlin knew she did not know how she would try to explain to Harry what had happened that day on the train, when she cursed Weasley. She could vividly remember the shock and disappointment in his eyes, as he had called out her name. Perhaps it was for the best that they avoided each other for a while.

She saw Greengrass still trying to hold a conversation with her. Figuring out that she could at least try a single attempt at being calm, she had talked back to her. She could not believe the audacity of the girl in front of her. She was mocking her. She was lying to her about Harry, that he was supposedly worried about her. Harry, who had done anything and everything, just to be out of her sight in the last couple of months. Her fingers twitched again, and she knew she had to make the girl realize the peril she was in, or else...

"Leave Greengrass", she told her off with a tone of finality in her voice," before I curse you to death."

It was so satisfying to see the girl's countenance fall, as she nodded and walked away. Hermione almost closed her door, but then, she remembered that she had to check about a couple of ingredients about her next ritual. Hoping she would get something in the library, she opened the door and walked out to her right. She never noticed the bloody figure of her rival, fallen on the corridor as she left her behind.

* * *

 **THAT NIGHT...**

Harry sat beside Daphne as she lay, wounded and asleep on her bed in the hospital wing. He could not stop himself from thinking about the perils that his betrothed had been facing that year, and if he was frank with himself, it was because of his association with her. Damn the betrothal! Daphne's safety and well-being was of paramount importance, and Harry came to realize that every time she had been attacked, it was in some way linked to him. Pettigrew put her under the Imperius, only to get to him. And now, she lay bloodied on the hospital wing, hit by a dark curse, and as per as what Tracey had told him, she was visiting Hermione, despite Tracey's concerns to the contrary. Why in the right mind would Daphne go and visit Hermione of all people, Harry could not fathom. He had plainly refused to leave her bed side until she woke up. It had been nine hours and still, she was almost unmoving, with her silent deep breaths being the only symptoms of her being alive.

Tracey, Blaise and the rest had come in, in intervals to visit Daphne and every time they had found Harry sitting on the same place, unmoved. They had tried to convince him to at least go and have a light meal but he had plainly refused, citing that he needed to stay there in case Daphne woke up and needed his help or something. Giving it up as a lost cause, the others had reluctantly left for their classes.

A small movement shook Harry out of his thoughts. At first, he thought he might have been day-dreaming. But then his betrothed's fingers shook again, and then again. Her eyelids fluttered for some moments as she opened them with great reluctance, only to see the anxiousness in the emerald eyes of her boyfriend. She gave a crooked smile, her facial muscles stinging with each movement, and whispered... "Hey!"

Harry was overjoyed at the revelation. Daphne had returned to her senses. He hastily stood up, taking care not to hurt her anyway, and rushed towards her face, his anxiousness visible in the eyes. Daphne could see something that she had never believed possible. She saw him scared, and visibly anxious.

 _Is he scared for me?_

"Daph! How are you feeling! Are you okay? Do you-" he broke midway, "Madam Pomfrey!" h yelled.

"Coming! Coming!" cried out the voice of the matron, as she strode towards the couple. Leaning towards Daphne's face, she asked, "How are you feeling Miss Greengrass?"

Daphne smiled back, and whispered, "I am all right. Just a bit of soreness is all."

"Hmm. You are lucky that your boyfriend saw you and acted in the best possible manner. Had he delayed the statis, you would have been in paramount danger. As it is, you have come out very lightly out of a dangerous situation. I was lucky to intercept the effects of the curse quickly, else Merlin forbid it would have caused more... deleterious effects."

Daphne saw a shadow of a certain emotion flash in her boyfriend's eyes and knew that he must be feeling guilty about whatever happened to her. She knew he would now believe himself to be the cause, and start wallowing, and importantly, hide everything from her. For a lord of two Ancient and Noble Houses, her boyfriend was extremely dense, when it came to emotional situations.

Daphne nodded. "When can I leave, madam?"

"Leave?" the nurse mused with a scowl, "Who said anything about leaving? You shall be retained back her for the next two days at least. I need to keep your vitals monitored. I would have kept you here for the rest of the week if I had my way, but unfortunately..." She stopped from her diatribe.

"And you, young man!" she glanced at Harry and continued, "You shall take care to see to it that she remains in care for the rest of her summer vacations. I know you are the last person I would have prescribed to attend to medical cases, but you are her betrothed and so, I believe I have to hand the case to you."

Harry almost flinched at her harsh tongue, but then remembered that this was Madam Pomfrey. Heir of Slytherin or not, there were some battles that just could not be won.

* * *

"Miss Granger!" the scornful voice of the Head of Gryffindor resounded in the library room. Both Hermione and Madam Pince looked up indignantly. Madam Pince because someone had yelled in the library, contrary to her strict orders, and Hermione, because she was offended by the sudden distraction from her research. Seeing Professor McGonagall standing in front of her, Hermione subdued her irritation while Madam Pince went back to her work, muttering to herself about careless and hypocritical adults, breaking library rules and something.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione replied, a little wariness in her voice.

"I need you to accompany me to the Headmaster's office."

 _What? Why? I had not cursed the Greengrass bitch after all!_

"May I know the reason I am being summoned?" She asked back, defiantly.

"You may. You are called in, for interrogation regarding the lethal attack on Miss Greengrass this afternoon." The professor answered back.

 _Attack? Someone attacked her?_

"Professor, I swear I do not know anything about it."

"That may be so Miss Granger, however Miss Greengrass was found a couple of steps near your dorm room on the fourth floor, and yours is the only dorm nearby. It was obvious she was visiting you when she was attacked."

"Yes, she did but-" Hermione began defiantly but stopped, knowing she would have to recall the entire thing in front of the Headmaster anyway, she sighed. "Fine. Lead on, Professor."

McGonagall nodded and marched out of the library, Hermione following her.

* * *

The Headmaster's office was one of the most peculiar rooms in the entire castle. Completely circular and filled with lots of interesting artifacts of all kinds. Hermione thought she would have an interesting time, decoding the uses of the artifacts in the room, where it not for the fact that the room was already overcrowded. She could see her transfiguration and charms professors already sitting, Snape standing by the side, hovering above all like a bat that he so perfectly imitated, Tracy Davis standing beside him, and finally, Harry Potter. Hermione saw how his eyes were downcast, and from what she could make out, his eyes were red, and filled with a certain emotion. She had never known Harry to be emotional. The fact made her realize how much had changed in the course of the year.

"Please, have a seat, Miss Granger." The Headmaster said aloud. Hermione obeyed the order without any protest.

"You must be wondering why you are here..." Dumbledore began.

"Really!" Hermione drawled out, imitating Malfoy perfectly, "I thought I was here to taste your loathsome lemon drops."

Dumbledore suppressed a laugh at his student's antics. Keeping a more serious face, he continued, "You are here so that you can describe the events of today afternoon. Miss Greengrass was hit by a lethal spell that could have taken her life, and she was found near your dorm. After she was returned to consciousness, she admitted to seeing a brown haired girl walking away behind her, as she fell. Knowing that there is no love lost between the two of you, you are a suspect in this situation. As such, we would want to check your wand for spells."

Hermione blanched. This wasn't happening. "Headmaster, Greengrass had come to my room wanting to mock me about my failure."

"She was worried about you, you bitch!" shouted the angry voice of Tracey Davis.

"Miss Davis!" scoffed Professor Snape, "Please refrain from using profanity. Five points taken, for inappropriate behavior."

Tracey muttered something under her breath in irritation.

Hermione scoffed at her. Looking back at the Headmaster, she continued, "After she was gone, I left for the library. I admit to not noticing her fallen body; I was... lost in my thoughts."

"I am sure that is good and all, but we need to check your wand." Dumbledore pressed. Harry looked up at him for a moment. Glancing at Hermione for a second, he flitted his attention back to the Headmaster.

"I am not sure why I am being asked to reveal the spells I cast from my wand." Hermione countered defiantly.

"If you are indeed innocent of the accusations, then you have nothing to fear. "Dumbledore finished.

Hermione slowly withdrew her wand from her sleeve. She knew that should Dumbledore get to know, what spells she had been casting, she would be in a bigger problem.

"I refuse." Hermione stated, trying a last stand.

Dumbledore closed his eyes. Standing up to his fullest height, he slowly spoke, "Then Miss Granger, I shall have to order the Aurors to come here and take you away _, forcefully_ I may add, and make you reveal you every single piece of information, that may be against proper conduct here at Hogwarts school. And I assure you, both as Headmaster and Chief Warlock, _your words hold no sway over my own._ "

Hermione looked up at the venerable wizard in front of her, her eyes now slits of indefinable fury, and spoke with a coldness that Harry could never have associated with his old best friend.

"So be it, Headmaster."

She handed over her wand, reluctantly but she did. Resigning herself to answer the flurry of questions that would start once her wand was tested, she sat down on the seat. She might milk the rest of the moments in peace. Merlin knew she hardly got a moment of peace inside the damnable school walls.

Dumbledore gingerly took over Hermione's wand and held it between his od fingers. Birchwood and dragon heartstring, he figured out from his personal knowledge of wand lore. A versatile wand for enchantment and charms.

 _"_ _Priori Incantatem!"_

Immediately a rush of magical residue burst out of the black wand. The residues separated, each of a different color and magical potency, and revealing the spells that were cast out from the wand. Hermione felt her heart go standstill as dangerous and dark hexes and curses were revealed out. Minerva McGonagall had her palm on her mouth, her conscience refusing to acknowledge that one of her most favorite students had sunk down into the dark arts. Severus Snape still held on to his loathsome sneer, his face incapable of displaying any other emotion. Harry, his face stoic and void of emotion, but his mind working overdrive at the level that the dark tomes must have affected his best friend. He knew he could not do anything about it, lest more complications arose. He decided to talk to Dumbledore about the situation, perhaps a solution could rise.

After a couple of moments, Dumbledore sat back on his plush chair, and looked sharply at the muggleborn girl in front of him. To think this girl was once Harry's best friend and had aided him in adventures to save the school, was flabbergasting at the least. With a tone of finality, he spoke out loud.

"Do you have anything to say about this Miss Granger? Do you still believe that you were not involved in the attack?"

"ALL RIGHT!" Hermione yelled out. "I practiced those spells, I studies them, I performed them. I have an affinity for them. I came into this world to learn magic and found that you people dumb down children into learning idiotic stuff and keep us away from... _the real thing_! This is not dark! This is powerful! _There is no light and dark_...and besides, how does that prove that I was the one who attacked Greengrass?"

"Can you give your memory of that event?" Harry spoke out, for the first time.

"Oh! So you _can still_ speak out in my presence!" Hermione scoffed, "very well, I can give my memory. But I need someone to do it as...I do not know the spell."

McGonagall helped her to procure the memory and added it to the Headmaster's pensive. After watching the entire situation, they returned back to normal.

"Then, who attacked Miss Greengrass?" Filius uttered out.

"I certainly did not." Hermione replied indignantly, "and if you are done, I would like to go and finish my research."

"We are not finished yet, Miss Granger." Dumbledore spoke out, stopping Hermione in the middle of her tirade. "Since you are obviously so _fascinated by... the real thing_... as you said, I am giving you a two-month detention once your next term begins," Hermione rolled her eyes, "with Madam Pomfrey. You shall work with her, in her curses ward, see and know for yourself how _wonderful_ the effects of the real thing is. In addition, you shall also accompany her to her trips to Saint Mungo's whenever she is called. Maybe you will be able to grasp a better picture of what you are dealing with."

Hermione did not roll her eyes this time. She looked hard at the old wizard in front of her, and then marched away.

* * *

 **## review! review!**


	43. ROTD 43 : A creature of antiquity

It had been one week since the attack on Daphne had taken place, and yet there were no news regarding any further suspects The matter was slowly dying down, and Harry felt like they had completely lost the fight. Someone had tried to cause detrimental harm to Daphne, been successful in the attempt, and got away scot free. The way the attack was placed near Hermione's dorm, clearly gave off the idea that someone had planned everything nicely, and set up Hermione as the fall-girl in the process. It also led him to think that the suspect must have known that Hermione was practicing the dark arts and had planned the event in excruciating detail. It was an execution worthy of Slytherin, at least according to Salazar.

Speaking of his mentor, Salazar had been away almost every day, vanishing off for hours at times, and of course, he never thought it was important to provide any justification for his activities, after all, Harry was his apprentice and not vice versa. He knew his mentor was up to something, but the fact that he was being kept in the dark did not sit good with him. Knowing that nothing could be done about it, he resigned himself to learning the magical arts and practicing illusions. He had still not improved by any means at conjuring the Illusion blade, or a decent Patronus, but he was nothing if not diligent.

Daphne had been liberated from her hospital bed and she had been given the free ticket to do as she wanted. The school term was over anyway and today they would be returning back home for the summer. Things were normal; well, as normal as could be possible where Harry was concerned; and Harry was hoping for a boring and uneventful return back home.

Harry took out an envelope out of his robe. It was from the Wizarding Examinations Authority, Madam Marchbanks in particular, citing him the details of his OWL examination details. As it was, he would be charged one hundred and fifty-five galleons for his wish to test out directly at the ministry, and that too, before the standard time; fifth year that is. Moreover, there were only two choices for his exam timings, one was a month into his holidays, the 17th of June to be exact, or he could take them in December. Harry decided to go for the former. The venue was unchanged, WEA Department on the sixth floor. The letter said that Harry would be receiving another letter specifying the timings and other scrutinized details very soon.

Harry decided to have a last visit at his mentor's chamber before leaving for the holidays. He had finally mastered Apparation, on his own that is, although he had to bribe Flitwick with some chocolate muffins, a weakness of the old Charms master. Who knew that the old goblin was such a voracious eater when it came to chocolate muffins. The venture had cost Harry ten galleons but the result was worth it. Being underage, whether emancipated or not, he could not go and appear for Apparation testing at the ministry. So, he had no problem in being sneaky about it.

* * *

Entering the Chamber, he saw Salazar floating in the library, an old tome levitating in front pf him. Walking towards his mentor, Harry happened to glance at the tome his mentor was busy in. " _Prophetic interpretations: A detailed study_ " Harry read aloud.

His voice broke Salazar's concentration as he swiftly glanced back at his heir with a scowl. "Didn't anyone teach you not to disturb someone when reading?"

Harry grinned shamelessly and countered, "I am about to leave, so thought to visit you."

Muttering again about sneaky children and their cheek, Salazar looked down to his heir and spoke. "You won't be seeing me until next term. I have some urgent work to conduct in the meantime. So I want you to return back to Potter Manor and study and practice. Wouldn't want you to be out of form when we begin our journey into deeper forms of Illusions next term."

Harry nodded and told Salazar about the letter from WEA. Salazar agreed with his decision of taking them in June and wished him luck. Before leaving, he looked back at him for one last time and replied, "There is a pensieve in the library. In case you need it and I am not here, you have my permission to take it away. However, I also expect that you will take proper care of it and return it back to its place when your need is fulfilled."

Harry nodded in acceptance and thanked his mentor. With a cheeky grin, he vanished with a crack.

"That cheeky bastard!" Salazar said to himself, alone in his chamber, "he managed to learn Apparation by himself!"

* * *

Among a lot of noises and bustles, Harry and his friends packed up their trunks in one of the horseless carriages. Sitting beside Daphne, her lithe body enclosed in his arms, he sat in one end of the carriage, followed by Tracy, Theo, Blaise, Susan and Neville. Susan and Neville still were hiding their mutual affections from each other, in spite of being teased mercilessly about it at times. The carriages began with their usual trotting sounds, though Daphne never could figure out the source of the trotting sounds.

"It's the Thestrals." Blaise began, who had understood the curiosity on Daphne's face. His voice brought her out of his thoughts. "What?"

"What are Thestrals?" Tracy began.

"Thestrals are winged horse like creatures. They can be seen only be one-" Blaise glanced at Harry.

"Who has seen death!" Harry finished.

Daphne glanced at Harry's countenance, sighing to herself that her betrothed was constantly holding himself guilty for her misfortune. She knew that beneath all the joyous mask, Harry was bent on feeling himself responsible, and would not be at rest until he had found out who was responsible for the attack on her.

The group was busy in their discussions when a pale gray curse hit the carriage, the thestrals to be exact. The thestrals went out of control, trying to get out of the harnesses. They neighed, and cried out in anxiety, as if suddenly driven insane. Nobody had seen the curse hit them and the group were completely flabbergasted at the happenings.

Holding Daphne tight in his arms, he held his ground and sat firm inside the carriage. Blaise and Susan were almost thrown out but somehow Theo and Neville held them back. They held on to each other until the carriage broke off at the hinges and broke off. Neville and Theo were thrown away and fell on the vines that pervaded the floor of the forbidden forest. Tracy and Blaise had fallen and hit the trunks of a rather large trunk and screamed in pain. Harry still held on to Daphne as they fell together, and Harry's timed _impedimenta_ stopped any injury. Daphne fell on him, as he fell down, albeit softly on the rough shrubbery covered floor of the forest.

"Ouch! I think I broke my rib!" Tracy's voice reverberated in the darkness.

"Hey! Put your leg off my face!" Theo's voice boomed in.

"Sorry!" Neville's voice sounded.

"Are you alright Daph?" Harry asked.

"yeah!" Daphne muttered, "though I got a bit bruised I think."

"Let's get up!"

The group got up and brushed themselves up. "Where are we?" Tracy asked.

"In the forbidden forest." Neville replied.

"Oh I didn't know that, tell me more..." Blaise replied with a scoff.

"We are outside the wards... we should not be here." Harry began.

"And with due reason." Daphne ended, her voice shaken. "LOOK!"

And then Harry saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the dense forest toward them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them...

"Daphne, everyone, think of something happy!" Harry yelled, raising his wand, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it.

"Expecto Patronum!" A few wisps were all he got. "Expecto Patronum!"

"Harry! It's not working!" Daphne cried. Blaise and Theo tried conjuring fire but to no avail. Tracy had fallen down, shivering in the cold while Daphne was looking scared and frozen. Harry left his attempts at the Patronus, and felt his elemental powers activate. This was no time to hide his powers. With a focused intent, he crossed his palms and procured a large, powerful ball of flames. Focusing his protective intent, he blasted the ball of fire towards the Dementors, burning a few of them to shreds instantly.

The Dementors saw what the wizard had done to one of them and screeched out in their rattling breath in anger. In a staggered approach, they rounded up to their prey from all sides. Harry used his powers to form a circular shield of flames around his friends, but the dementors' aura could not be stopped by the flames. While elemental fire was effective in burning them, the flames were powerless in stopping their aura. Theo and Neville scrunched up and with a shriek, fell down unconscious.

"Theo! Neville!" Harry shouted in desperation. He felt Daphne fall down slowly beside him and quickly went to hold her. That broke his control over the flames which faded away. Harry paid no mind to it and tried to wake his girl up.

"Daphne! Daphne! I need you! Wake up!" He wanted her to wake up, he needed her to wake up, he knew that his life was nothing without her and he loved-

His thoughts shifted to the personal moments with Daphne. The girl that had showed him how to feel, the girl that had fought off the Imperius for him, the girl who was attacked repeatedly and yet had stood steadfast at Harry's side, the girl he loved.

Harry opened his teary eyes, his emotions glistening through them. Waving his wand up to the heavens, he yelled... "Expecto Patronum!"

A huge burst of energy discharged out of his wand. The waves of energy formed a protective mist around Harry's friends and especially Daphne. Harry knew what was happening. He had finally done it.

A large silvery wolf burst out of the energy mist. Harry recognized it as his dire wolf form. The wolf sprang out and hurled itself at the Dementor hordes, throwing them away. The Dementors tried to fight back but to no avail. Harry stood up, his body exhausted yet far from losing consciousness, he spread his palms outward and yelled out to the heavens, wishing for his _most powerful_ elemental power to manifest.

His emerald eyes lost their color as a golden hue took their place, his hands glowed with a crimson sheen as huge flames erupted out of his palm tops. The flames fused together, often erupting bursts of elemental flames that burnt a Dementor or two on contact. Harry threw out his entire magical power, wishing for his elemental Patronus.

* * *

Daphne and her friends, who had slowly regained their consciousness, thanks to the effects of Harry's wolf Patronus, sat wide eyed at their friend. Harry was powerful, they all knew that, but this... it was completely baffling... profound... unimaginable. Nobody in their wildest dreams would have visualized that their friend, the almost fourteen-year-old Harry Potter had defeated a horde of over a hundred of Dementors with a single corporeal Patronus, and was now creating something much more powerful and unfathomable. For the first time, they did not see their friend but saw the boy who had defeated the greatest dark lord of modern history when he was one-year-old. With profound respect and awe, they conceded to the power of the Boy-who-lived, and rightly so.

The flames had now merged totally and Harry knew he had done it. With a final burst of flames that carried with them deadly power, his spell had created a creature of antiquity, an elemental Patronus. While the one created during the Chamber was powerful, it was nothing compared to the one he had manifested just then. An enormous reptilian, winged creature, the Quetzalcoatl, around twenty feet in height, stood shining in the air above them, in all its eternal glory.

The Dementors screeched out in pain, at seeing the ancient magic, that had been reborn into a world that had forgotten them. It was impossible. Dementors, for all their flaws, lived for an insufferable amount of time, some living over some millennia at times. After the ancient magicks had vanished off the surface of the planet, there had been nothing that could have killed the Dementors, except for the hell fire, but that was a rarity and thus, the Dementors had nothing to fear as they had mercilessly consumed wizard souls over the past millennium, growing stronger and stronger. Now to their greatest fear, was a wizard, that had manifested a creature of antiquity, back into the mortal realms. Knowing that the battle was lost, the Dementors began to flee.

The enormous fiery reptile spread its wings, drawing itself to its fullest size and let out a guttural roar. It shook the forest and the species inside it. With one burst of deadly fire. It burnt a score of Dementors that were trying to flee away from its presence. The wolf Patronus somehow understood what was happening and started to push the Dementors towards the fiery serpent, which kept on obliterating the abominations left and right. With a final burst of flames, the creature looked down at its caster and sent him a mental nudge. Harry realized what was happening, and cut out supplying it with his raw energy. The Quetzalcoatl slowly shrunk and faded away.

Harry knelt down on the ground, not having the energy to stand up. He felt something on his cheek. Looking up, he saw his wolf Patronus, licking his cheek. With a silly grin, he whispered "Thanks."

The Patronus faded away, as Harry was sure he heard Hagrid's voice calling him, before he lost himself to oblivion.

* * *

 **### Hope I did the Patronus part some justice! Review! review!**


	44. ROTD 44 : Revelations

**### The final chapter of the first book of the Chronicles saga. The end of the year. The end of the first part of the tale. Hope it was a worth read and I hope readers will find joy reading more. Thanks. AND PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

Salazar Slytherin was busy looking through his dusty tomes, he had yet to figure out a way to get the entire prophecy out of the sphere, without obliterating his own self. It was fortunate that being a ghost, the innate curses could not affect him, but the way his inherent magic had flared, Salazar had feared that he would be obliterated from existence. Since then, he had been busy, night and day, poring over tomes upon tomes, trying to find out a way that could enable him to hear the prophecy. It was of paramount importance, for him to know it. The future...depended upon it. Although his heir also had another _localized_ prophecy manifested about him, he wasn't too worried about it, for at this moment, he had to figure out some way to listen to the prophecy of ancients.

He had been busy poring through his tomes, when a shiver ran through his ethereal body. Salazar shook off from his studies to vanish off, only to appear on a solitary area on the Hogwarts grounds. The veil had fluttered. _The veil had fluttered_. But that meant...

 _Something ancient had just returned back to the mortal realm..._

Salazar was shocked. How was that possible? Then, he heard the formidable roar, shaking the entire Enchanted forest. Salazar could hear the centaurs get distraught and flock towards a certain direction intermittently. He could hear the waves of energy reverberating in tune and for some reason, the ward stones of Hogwarts seemed to synchronize itself, accepting the energy, as if it were its own. Salazar was stumped. That would only happen if an heir of the founders would intentionally supply the wards with energy, but that would mean-

Salazar vanished off to the area where the energy was being emanated.

He could not believe his eyes.

A mammoth fiery creature, of indomitable power and potency, almost as large as his dead pet, stood shining in the air. The majestic reptile, its tail swinging in unison with the beats of its gargantuan wings on its back; Salazar could not believe he was seeing the ultimate form of the elemental Patronus, cast into existence by none other than his heir.

Harry Potter.

The boy was standing on the ground, his arms outward, is palms generating pillars of flames that rose above and fused into a golden sphere, from which the stupendous creature originated, releasing bursts of fire everywhere. He winced slightly as he saw a horde of Dementors get wiped away as a fireball tore through them. He saw the silvery Wolf prowling around, pushing the Dementors towards their purgatory, as they were burnt to a crisp like moths in a giant furnace. He stood in awe as the creature manifested completely and behaved just like any other sentient being would. He watched in awe as the ancient creature link itself mentally to his heir, and Salazar now knew that his heir had finally stepped into the shoes of a fire elemental. He knew that nothing could stop his heir now. He watched as his heir obliterated the entire horde of more than a hundred Dementors without battling an eye.

 _Magnificent! This is utterly beautiful! Are you watching this, Evolette? Your heir, our heir, is returning the Arcana back to the world... Such powerful magick... it is not even mine to procure... It is his... it has always been his..._

He now knew what he was missing... why he could not get the entire prophecy... he had, in his arrogance, thought himself as the object of the prophecy, when it was not about him, but Harry... The truth numbed down Salazar, if someone up there was teaching him humility, he was doing a fine job!

* * *

Harry opened his eyes to the white ceiling that he was intimately familiar with. He looked around, there was a couple of plain beds, as always and realized that he was back to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.

 _Damn!_

He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him. "Good afternoon, Harry, Good to see you awake!" came his soft voice. It was so reminiscent of first year.

"Sir! The Dementors!" Harry began.

"It's all alright Harry! Nothing to be concerned about." Dumbledore interrupted.

"but sir my friends... and Daphne!" Harry tried.

"They are all fine, and unless you stop yelling, Madam Pomfrey will throw me out for disrupting her hospital wing's ambience."

Harry stopped and grinned.

"Where are they?" he finally asked.

"In the great hall. Each and every one of your friends is now in the pink of health." Dumbledore assured him.

Harry nodded gratefully.

"I have a couple of questions to ask you... if you allow me!"

Harry knew what the Headmaster was talking about. Knowing that he could not keep his elemental powers a secret forever, he nodded in acceptance.

"What exactly happened in the forest, last night?"

Harry accounted the whole tale to the Headmaster, about how the thestrals had gone out of control, how the carriage had fallen and they had been injured. He explained how the Dementors attacked them in hordes.

"What was that fire you procured that managed to burn away Dementors? And please do not lie to me." Dumbledore urged.

Harry sighed. He knew that the question would have come sooner or later.

"I am a fire elemental."

Dumbledore nodded. He looked up at the prodigious boy once again as the realization of what the boy had said hit him.

"That is not possible." He disagreed, with a touch of uncertainty in his voice. "There hasn't been an elemental since the Time before the statute of secrecy. You cannot... just-"

Dumbledore stumped midway, knowing not what to say.

Harry smiled. "As you feel right, sir!"

"How do you... know that you are one?" Dumbledore prodded, his eyes anxious.

"I... have an _active_ elemental core. Sir."

Whatever Dumbledore might have thought the boy to reply, this was not it. It was simply surreal. There hadn't been an elemental ever. The ancient bloodlines and magicks had never returned. Dumbledore knew of the ancient folk lore since he was a child and again, when he was apprenticing under the Flamels. However, if what the boy said was correct then, this could have repercussions. _Could this possibly be the power the dark lord knew not?_

"Mr. Potter, Harry," Dumbledore began, "I would like you to meet a couple of my friends during the holidays, after your tournament is done; if you do not mind. I assure you, it will be ... interesting and educational."

"Whom are we meeting, sir?"

"We are going to be meeting my mentor, and the greatest living Alchemist, Nicholas Flamel."

Harry could not stop himself from grinning.

* * *

The meeting with his friends had been quite an awkward one. His friends, and even Daphne, was behaving a bit oddly with him. It wasn't that they were angry or annoyed. If anything, there was a reverence in their tone when they talked to him. Even Blaise, who was known for his sarcastic wit, had almost dumbed down a bit when it came to talking to Harry. It was annoying.

Using a portkey provided by the Headmaster, the group was transported to Kings Cross, where their parents were waiting. Soon, everyone was gone except the Greengrasses and Harry. Daphne and the rest of the family wanted Harry to come with them, but he denied, citing that he had some unavoidable work to do. In fact, they would be able to meet up only a couple of times in the holidays, what with the way he had the tournament and his personal business on his list. With a slight frown, Daphne flooed away with the rest of the family.

 _If only I could tell her..._

Holding up his right hand, he felt the Potter family ring and sent his magic through him. The ring hummed softly, acknowledging his request. He closed his eyes and focused on the location of the concealed Potter Manor. Getting a tug from his ring, he focused on its signature and apparated.

* * *

Harry appeared on a vast grassland. This was not the manor, in fact there was _nothing_ here at all. But the ring could not be wrong, could it? Focusing his intent on finding the manor, he radiated a magical foray outward. In a flash, a small pedestal appeared on the ground. Walking towards it, he put his palm on the surface of the pedestal. A sharp pain shot through his spine as he realized that the top was now littered with blood... his blood.

 _An intent based blood ward?_

The air around hi simmered. It was like looking out of the window on a rainy day, the clouded vision that reached the eye after passing through the rain droplets and the window pane. The air all around him suddenly was saturated with heavy magic. He could not stop looking all around with widened eyes as the land all around him faded and a grand old manor manifested itself into existence.

 _Could this be a giant illusion magic?_

He could see the gorges in the valley nearby, he could see an old fountain that was now devoid of water, he could see the tall antiquated towers with the mammoth sprawling mansion in the center. It was almost as big as Hogwarts castle. He could see the circular towers were built as a defense maneuver. These places were designed with defense in mind, a clear vantage point over the surrounding farmland and a stagnant moat with retractable draw-bridge. The house seemed to be a collection of various pieces added on to each other over time. The dominant feature of the manor was a stone tower that stood at least five levels above the ground. The battlements atop the tower had a worn but well-kept look about them. Closer to the ground and on the left side of the structure was a slightly aged, modest, two story addition composed of stone and timber. While the main tower looked to be at least seven hundred years old, the manor couldn't be less than a thousand years old.

Stepping on the rocky ground, he strode towards the manor. Entering the through the colossal doors, the emptiness seemed to reach out to him. The entire manor felt hollow, empty. There was no one in the entire manor.

Harry strode into the main hall, his ring giving him an approximate idea of what-was-where in the giant manor. After roaming around for over an hour, he reached the main study. Going with the "suggestions", he pressed his palm on a particular brick on the fireplace. A surge of magic flared through his skin, as a door opened on the wall opposite to the fireplace. It was the chamber where the ward stones were kept.

Reaching the ward stones, he cut a small incision over his palm and let a few drops of blood fall on the stones. The stones glowed with an azure hue before turning back to normal white.

Holding on to the stones with his still bloodied palm, Harry felt the wards of the ancestral manor respond to him.

 _Blood Fidelius..._

The Blood Fidelius was a derivative of the Fidelius that was incorporated into the wards of many ancient families. The charm hid the location of the manor from everyone except the Lord of the family and the other blood relatives. It was a way to grant the ancestral manors a security from external attacks. Since family was blood, it was a belief that all external attacks could be evaded if family stayed together. The Blood Fidelius was based on the intent that protection of one's blood family was of more importance than anything else. In case, the family was dead by any means, the location of the manor was confined to the Lord ring, and only available to the next Lord when the family ring accepted him.

'Fidelius!" Harry intoned loudly, feeling the wards respond to him, accepting him as the new Lord of the manor.

 ** _Sanguinem fidelis aeternam._**

He chanted.

There was a flash of magic as he felt the nature of the wards change, and allow him to make changes in the manor. Willing to test his theory, he yelled. "Dobby!"

A silent pop and the hyperactive elf was instantly in front of him.

"Master Harry Potter calls for Dobby?"

Harry smiled. "This is my home Dobby. I shall live here from now on. Will you help me making it habitable?"

"Master asks Dobby if Dobby would help him? "dobby asked with a tear in his eyes. "Harry Potter is indeed the most generous and greatest sorcerer in the world."

 _Sorcerer? That was new..._

"I think you mean Wizard, don't you Dobby?" Harry urged.

"No Harry Potter sir. Dobby is not going to insult Harry Potter sir by calling him a wand wielder anymore."

 _Strange! It's like he is trying hard to completely avoid using the term 'wizard'._

"Why do you say that Dobby? You can tell me; I will not mind." Harry promised.

"Dobby has heard the other house elves talk about his master. Dobby has felt when the ancient one returned to the world. Dobby has felt the call of the Wild magic, calling for him, reminding Dobby of old days. Dobby has heard the-" Dobby suddenly stopped in the middle of his diatribe and looked at Harry with widened eyes.

"Dobby has heard the _sound of the stirring_."

"The sound of the stirring?" Harry questioned.

"Do not ask me about that Harry Potter sir. Dobby is forbidden to say. Dobby is." He nodded his head vigorously.

Confused about the elf's antics, Harry nodded his head in acceptance. "And what about this sorcerer thing?"

Dobby looked at his master with extra-widened eyes with reverence. Harry felt that the elf was just one step away from falling on his knees and worshipping him.

"Dobby has heard how Harry Potter sir had _summoned the ancient one_ from the depths of magic from the other world. That is the work of a sorcerer. Not a mere wand wielder. Dobby knew Harry Potter was great, but this... Dobby never knew!"

Harry looked at his elf with a stoic look. After a moment of pondering, he looked at Dobby and smiled, "You can return to work Dobby. I will call you again if I need you. Prepare a bedroom for me and prepare some food. I am hungry."

Dobby hit his palm on his head in a form of a tribal salute and popped away.

 _Weird._

 _Sorcerer! I wonder!_

* * *

Salazar Slytherin drifted back to the chamber of the ancient prophecies. The seventh shelf stood in front of him, as if testing his humility. He smiled to himself as he touched the prophecy, with the intent of listening the prophecy _for his heir_ , the subject of the prophecy.

His magic flared and for a moment, Salazar feared that he had once again gone wrong, and perhaps won't be so lucky this time. However, his fears were short lived when the familiar ominous voice uttered the phrases that would forever change his world...and others...

 ** _The ghost of the future shall rise in the past,_**

 ** _A circle of death, on the wings of magic;_**

 ** _The betrayer shall rise for his redemption,_**

 ** _the warlord before his time shall fall;_**

 ** _Magic for magic, shall be undone,_**

 ** _As the wrath of the Chaos obliterates all._**

 ** _The dragon shall roar, the serpent shall strike,_**

 ** _As eternity and reality, fades into Oblivion._**

 ** _This is the knowledge I have for you, about your everlasting damnation..._**

* * *

 **END OF THE FIRST PART OF THE WIZARDING CHRONICLES.**

* * *

 **##any thoughts on the prophecy?**


	45. ROTS 01: The spirit familiar

_Presenting the **second** part of The Wizarding Chronicles..._

 **RISE OF THE SORCERER**

The atmosphere around Potter Manor was saturated with energy. The air rippled, as pure energy darted from the top of one tower to the ground like a huge fork of lightning. The deadly power flashed down to the rocky ground where a mirror was effectively placed to intercept and deflect the energy pulse in the direction of the northern tower where an identical mirror was in place. The chaotic energy pulsed back and forth between the two mirrors until an effective pentagram was created out of the energy waves. The Lord of the manor stood on one of the higher platforms of the manor, overlooking the entire experiment, making notes, while his elf was busy popping from one mirror position to another, checking if the mirror alignment was still as perfect as the experiment required.

The pentagram burned high, around seventy feet above the ground, the energy pulsing through it in waves, energy so deadly, powerful and intoxicating; energy that could only be produced by an elemental sorcerer at will. Harry apparated beneath the center of the pentagram, whispering the incantations of the ritual he was about to perform. The ritual, would cleanse him of all his earthly destitutions; It was in effect, a physical equivalent of the cleansing and empowering ritual that he had performed at the beginning of the year. The former had cleansed Harry's core of all impurities, and tuned his magic to maximum potency, liberating out his affinities. The ritual he was about to perform would do something similar, just on a physical level. He would finally get to be free from his maladies, his malnutrition, his deficiencies, his improper physical stature, to name a few. The ritual was not made for wizards, and there was no way that his mentor would have known about this ritual. It was created for elementals like him, and Harry was lucky that his new _spirit familiar_ had been knowledgeable and willing enough, to tell him about the ritual.

Although it had been only a month since he had inaugurated the manor and stepped inside it as the new Lord of the house, Harry had changed by leaps and bounds since then. What started as a side note mentioned by a rather excitable elf, had turned into an endless source of enlightenment for the young sorcerer. Yes, sorcerer, and Harry now knew how, why and what it was about. The entire sequence of events that had followed had been so quick and magical, that it still felt like yesterday to him.

 **FLASHBACK**

 _"Dobby has heard how Harry Potter sir had_ _ **summoned the ancient one**_ _from the depths of magic from the other world. That is the work of a sorcerer. Not a mere wand wielder. Dobby knew Harry Potter was great, but this... Dobby never knew!"_

 _Harry looked at his elf with a stoic look. After a moment of pondering, he looked at Dobby and smiled, "You can return to work Dobby. I will call you again if I need you. Prepare a bedroom for me and prepare some food. I am hungry."_

 _Dobby hit his palm on his head in a form of a tribal salute and popped away._

Harry shook his head at his elf's antics. He knew that house elves were descendants of the high elves of old, and there was a lot to magical history that he was ignorant about, but the behavior of the elf, confused him to no end. Taking control of the wards and casting the Fidelius had been a huge drain to his reserves. Harry felt him lurch for a moment, but he firmly held the table next to him, and stood his ground. Feeling exhausted, he felt that a few hours of sleep would do him good.

Getting to one of the bedrooms, he found that his elf had already prepared his bed for him. Smirking to himself, looking at house elf efficiency, he got under the covers and drifted off to sleep.

"It has been ages since I met one of my kind, young sorcerer."

Harry opened his eyes and found himself back in his magical core. Knowing his luck, he must have done something impeccably wrong and caused some more turmoil in regards to his core. The scathing tongue of the Slytherin family magick that he had to bear the previous time he was there, was still vivid in his memories.

"You have not done anything wrong this time, in case you are wondering!" The voice resounded from behind.

 _Why do they always address me from behind?_

Turning back sharply, he found himself staring into the glowing orbs of the elemental Patronus he had conjured the last time, albeit one much smaller than the one he had created. The snake, it seemed, was roughly his height, if a tad larger in size, what with the way it had its wings unfurled in opposite directions, taking up three times the space it would probably had taken with its wings folded. It was the same fiery crimson as he remembered, although he could not feel any heat emanating from it. That shot him thinking, he did not feel any heat when he had used it against the Dementors. Perhaps a trait of his fire elemental ability, he mused.

"I know your mind is troubled with questions young sorcerer," Harry's eyebrows shot upwards at the enunciation, "I brought you here, so that I could meet with you as I had previously conveyed during our initial encounter."

A stray thought filled Harry's mind, about a specific moment during the battle with the Dementors.

 _With a final burst of flames, the creature looked down at its caster and sent him a mental nudge. Harry somehow realizing what was happening, cut out supplying it with his raw energy._

"You remember now..." the creature's voice boomed.

 _So much of Occlumency and yet none of my thoughts remain my own! What good am I?_

The jaw of the magnificent creature twisted a bit, and if Harry was honest with himself, he would have been sure that the damned snake was smirking; or at least what passed for a smirk for reptiles.

"So why have you brought me here?" he asked.

"To reveal to you about your elemental powers..."

"I know I am a fire elemental. But why do you keep calling me sorcerer?" Harry questioned.

"Because you are one now. An elemental sorcerer, to be precise. One who has a core that is directly connected to the realms of the Chaos, pumping in raw, endless amounts of energy into your reserves."

 _Endless?_

"Endless." The creature enunciated his thoughts aloud, much to his scorn.

 _I might as well shout out to her..._

"You may."

Harry scoffed, and then questioned aloud, "If I have an _endless_ energy reserve and I have had an active elemental core since the start of the year, then how come I have had all these exhaustions?"

"Ah! An excellent elucidation of the main situation... Yes, you have had an active core, but still, you had not yet been able to synthesize and develop your abilities enough. Simply said, you were not ready..."

Harry inclined his head, in confusion.

"Now that you have evolved enough to _summon_ me from the Chaos Dimension-" the creature began.

"Hang on! I didn't summon you. I created you..." Harry had hardly finished his diatribe when the angry flash in the robs of the reptile before him made him change his dialogue midway, "unless of course, I didn't ... create you."

"Do your _spells talk_ to you inside your magical core?" the reptile hissed saucily.

Harry nodded in denial. The snake continued, "You merely supplied your elemental energy and summoned me from the depths of the Chaos. An extraordinary feat, for a sorcerer with a puny mind such as yours."

 _Are all my family magicks so sassy and biting?_

The snake hissed in anger, its orbs now slits of fury. Harry raised his arms up in truce. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I meant no offence. I only said so because I believed I was casting the spell, which I now know was wrong."

"Young sorcerer, you used your core to supply me with the energy from the endless, and summon me from the depths after over a millennium. It is paramount that you know the truth about your elemental abilities." Harry nodded. "An elemental, in essence is a cold blooded killer."

Harry blinked.

"I'm sorry...WHAT?"

"An Elemental is a _cold blooded killer_. Born and manifested from the raw energies of the Chaos, an elemental is but a weapon of destruction. Armed with an endless reserve of energy, fire in your case, an elemental is good at only one thing, causing destruction. The more energy an elemental extracts from the Chaos, the more destructive tendencies tend to cloud their minds. In fact, many planets of the universe have become extinct because of the rage of some elemental that went chaotic. They keep on to the destructive path until they burn out, often eviscerating entire landmasses in the process."

 _Why would that be?_

"The magic of the Chaos is unlike any other, it feeds on life itself, it pollutes the user, twisting everything it touches, it promises great power but extracts a terrible price. There is no place in the mortal realms for a being that has fallen into its grasp."

Harry could not decide what to do. He wanted to know more about the endless pool of energy that he had access to. He wanted to negate that there was no way he would go down a path of destruction. He wanted to contemplate his mental sanity. And finally, he wanted to take his proverbial tail between his legs and run away in terror.

"So... what should I do?" He asked numbly, all facets of sarcastic wit vanishing from his mind.

"You _cannot_ do anything by yourself. An elemental left alone is a recipe for world disaster. Hence, I shall be present, here with you, to help you balance your powers."

Harry gulped. His Slytherin mind taking the seat, he asked, "Not that I am complaining, but what do you get from this?"

"A share of your energy. An existence in reality, whenever you summon me. I am an elemental creature; we live to cause destruction. If you are stable, you can wield my powers for battle, and I can fulfil my primal desires."

"I can show you how to wield your powers like never before. I can show you how to control your core without falling into the Illusions of the Chaos. Without me, your elemental core shall slowly engulf your rational part of your mind, so in a way, I control your destiny."

Harry could not really say anything to counter the offer. The creature continued, "I shall be able to talk to you in your mind, think of me as your...spirit familiar."

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

Harry's training had changed by leaps and bounds after that. His new familiar, whom he addressed as Nidhogg, was a reservoir of knowledge, both of his powers and rituals, neither of which he could find anywhere else. It actually made sense, since no human or wizard ever got close enough to an elemental, never mind writing about them. Nidhogg told him tales of old, when elementals raged battles, killing thousands of battle mages who strived hard to contain them. The simple truth about them being, they were indestructible. An elemental, as the name suggested, was the magical manifestation of an element, and could only be contained by another elemental. Wizards over the ages had created a number of powerful spells they referred to as elemental spells, but it couldn't be more far than the truth. It would completely exhaust a wizard's core to release even one proper burst of elemental magic, so potent and deadly it was. Apparently, the last elemental on earth had been _somehow_ vanquished during the _time of Emrys_ , but not before taking a huge toll of deaths in the process.

Nidhogg taught Harry how to actually wield fire. He was completely antagonistic to wand magic, and preferred Harry to use his elemental core even for normal standard spells. When Harry had complained about the matter making no sense to him, Nidhogg had explained the process of manipulation of energy. Energy was energy, whether it was in raw form like fire or water, or in a constructed form like a spell. Harry had to learn how to mold raw energy into his construed spells and use them. Ruthless like hell, the serpent had begun to teach the young sorcerer about the utter versatility of magic.

In the one month that passed, Harry had become much more comfortable at molding his magic. Esoteric spells, like the Patronus, now came to him effortlessly. He was anticipating the look on his mentor's countenance when Harry would meet him next. Speaking of Salazar, there had been zero contact between them. Harry had even apparated to the Chamber twice, but his mentor was absent. He had snuck out a couple of books on Illusions, but unfortunately, the serpent knew next to nothing about them.

 _How do you know so much about elementals, Nidhogg?_

"Because we are kin, sorcerer." The serpent would reply.

 _Kin?_

"An elemental, is a mass of pure energy with a sentience. I am a mass of pure energy with a sentience. You get your energy reserves from the Chaos. I get my Chaotic energy from you. You survive, I survive. You fall, I get obliterated. Its symbiotic. Find a reasoning?"

And the serpent, spirit familiar or not, would just not stop being sassy.

Harry had still not moved to his wyvern transformation, as Nidhogg had asked him to delay that for a while, until he was more comfortable with the powers. The wolf morphing became effortless to him. He could now morph just like he had often seen his transfiguration teacher do in class.

McGonagall would be so proud.

Today however, he was working on his first ritual, one which would shed off all his physical problems for ever. Standing beneath the center of the pentagram, he cast a runic circle below his feet and uttered the incantations. He signaled his loyal elf, who bent the mirrors simultaneously using elfin magic until the entire magical pulse focused at a single point on the center, forming a mass of pure simmering energy. Whispering his final incantations, he radiated his intent out. The magical orb sent down a single beam that focused on the young sorcerer, flooding onto him with that magical discharge. The runes glowed and after a few moments, the entire ground was blinded with a white light. When the light receded, the young, pliant body of a naked Harry Potter lay fallen on the ground, his body shining with impeccable energy.

* * *

 **### HI guys! Back with the first chapter of the second volume of The Wizarding Chronicles. Hope this is as good as the previous one was. Read and Review!**


	46. ROTS 02: Turmoils

_The magical orb sent down a single beam that focused on the young sorcerer, flooding onto him with that magical discharge. The runes glowed and after a few moments, the entire ground was blinded with a white light. When the light receded, the young, pliant body of a naked Harry Potter lay fallen on the ground, his body shining with impeccable energy._

* * *

"Harry Potter sir? Harry Potter sir?" Dobby's anxious voice reached his ears.

"Uhh... Dobby? What happened?" Harry muttered, his voice weary and spent. He tried to lift his hands up, but his strength failed him. He felt the solid rocky ground underneath his skin, felt some bruises near his elbows.

"Lift me up, will you Dobby?" he uplifted his left hand towards the elf. Dobby however, had other ideas. With a snap of his fingers, he levitated his Master and popped into the master bedroom. Gently dropping his master over the plush covers of the large king sized bed, he popped away to prepare his master's lunch.

It was after two hours that Harry regained his consciousness. Waking up, he felt the very cozy covers stick to him, and if he was honest with himself, he would have liked nothing better than to lie in for the day. The plush warm covers had a cozy feel to them. Unfortunately, he had work to do. Sitting atop his bed, he finally looked up at himself. Despite his knowledge that he was sitting there in all his naked glory, he could not really stop himself from flexing his muscles and scrutinizing the changes in his post-ritual physique. He jumped off the bed, and walked in front of the full length mirror that hung on the front wall. Buckling and flexing his limbs again and again, he scrutinized himself. He had certainly become taller, that was one. He really had to thank Madam Malkin for the autocorrect charms on his robes. His eyesight had become sharper, and his nose had stretched out a little bit, which combined with his now narrowed countenance, gave him a more aristocratic look than ever. He was still lean, although not skinny anymore. The effects of the nutrient potions and Quidditch had helped him in gaining back muscle, but now his bod looked a lot more toned and athletic. His scar was still there, the lightning bolt vivid and clear as ever, while his eyes seemed to have an extra sheen added to them. The emerald orbs were still there, but there was an ever present golden hue, encircling the periphery. He could feel himself brimming with energy and stamina. The eye-catching part of his new physique though, was his hair. Where there was previously a crow's nest of untamable mess, his hair was now silky, luxuriant and tousled. The most striking thing however, was a few shades of red in the otherwise black predominance. Thinking the crimson color to be somehow related to his elemental powers, he waved the thought off.

After a wholesome feast prepared for him by his elf, the new and improved Harry Potter left the manor. He had some workout to do.

* * *

"Victoria?"

Victoria Greengrass was shaken off from her thoughts by the sudden calling of her husband. Turning to him, she raised her eyebrow, gesturing him to continue.

"What has had you troubled?"

Victoria sighed. "It is Daphne. She is..." Victoria wondered a moment for a decent word, "perturbed and overwrought by something. It isn't like she isn't eating or sleeping well or something; she is just... contemplating about something which she doesn't want to talk about with anyone, not even her mother." Victoria added with a grimaced expression.

"You think it might be related to our young Lord Slytherin?" Cyrus posed.

"I'm not sure. But maybe. Daphne has always been a bit difficult; especially after all that mess with Pansy and everything." She looked up at her husband. "You know how she was inconsolable for weeks, and then she started to hide behind that wretched mask. I almost felt that I had lost my daughter, if not for last year."

"The betrothal was a good thing for her." Cyrus intoned.

"It was, and is. You saw how she was slowly smiling and getting all that excited when it came to Harry." She reminisced with a fond smile. "Our young man had brought out the best in our daughter."

"Yes. He has." Cyrus could not refute that. He knew it well. Harry Potter, despite his initial ideas about the boy, was really the best thing that had happened to his daughter.

"But he refused to come to spend the holidays with us, this time." Victoria commented.

"Well he is a dual Lord, and with that comes a set of responsibilities." Cyrus mused when a thought struck him. Glancing back sharply at his wife, he questioned, "You think that he is avoiding our daughter and Daphne feels hurt because of that?"

"At first, I thought so. Yes. But now, I am not so sure. The betrothal is ironclad, there is no way they would be able to avoid being married without losing their magic, and Daphne still has a fond smile when talking about him. But I think; something has happened, and that too, very recently, that has resulted to some sort of... complication between them."

"Victoria," Cyrus pleaded, "please tell me you are not going to interfere in your daughter's love life."

Victoria smirked. "Not at all. I am just going to try set a few things right."

Cyrus winced, He knew that expression when it came to his wife's countenance. A smirking Victoria Greengrass did not bode well for the general life. Something had cropped up in that cunning mind of hers, and now no one would be able to stop her from doing it.

"You ARE going to interfere..." Cyrus sighed, knowing a lost case when he saw one; "and I thought Daphne gets her stubbornness from me."

Victoria walked up to her husband, and toyed her fingers on his cheek for a moment. Smirking again, she left the hall.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass hated being all blue and gloomy. It was exactly why she had adorned her emotionless mask all those years ago. All these past years, she had spent tightening her mask, only being herself in solitude, or perhaps in the personal presence of her family at times. Her mother, was perhaps the only person she was closest to, even more than her sister. She would simply know Daphne's emotions, no matter how well she hid it away. Things had continued like that, until that betrothal contract.

Harry Potter had shaken her world; right, left and center. She had fallen for him, and had fallen hard and fast. He was simply irresistible, what with his boyish grin, his activities, his nuances about everything, his way with her, an importantly, his supportive nature. Daphne had almost begun to see a vivid future on the arm of the young Lord. But recent events had shaken her dream off. She had fallen into plots set by antagonists who wanted to harm her betrothed; and every time, Harry had to fight tooth and nail, to save her.

 _So much for being the fearsome Ice Queen!_

She had been imperiused, viciously attacked again and again. The first time, she had failed completely and sent Harry into the clutches of that loathsome death eater. The next time, she had not listened to Tracy's concerns and had been brutally injured, only to be saved by Harry's quick actions. The third time, she had been completely useless against the Dementors. She had simply fallen off, frozen in fear, while her betrothed had stood guard and defeated the Dementor horde. It was simply insufferable. Daphne hated being weak. She was Daphne Greengrass, not some frail earthly princess.

Daphne's inner turmoil escaped out her solid control, as she kicked the vase next to her, blasting it into smithereens as it tumbling down the room.

"That was some reaction."

Daphne whirled back in surprise, indignant that someone had caught her in her moment of emotional turmoil. It was the smirking face of her mother, Victoria Greengrass that she found in front of her, her countenance radiating the "I know something" expression.

"What are you doing here, mum?" She replied sassily, not that she would normally behave like that with her mother, but this was not a normal event.

"Ooh! Showing your anger off on your little old mum, are you?"

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I know what you are trying to do. You tried the same thing when I was getting unbearable over that stupidity with Pansy."

"And it did work on that...stupidity was it?" Victoria challenged.

"Yes!" Daphne sighed, completely exasperated by her mother's antics.

"So care to tell me what insufferable stupidity has had you throw that vase of mine, breaking it to dust?"

Daphne dropped her hands in resignation. She knew her mother all too well. Victoria Greengrass was nigh stubborn, more than the cockiest Gryffindor, when she had her eyes set on achieving something.

"It is about Harry." She let out.

"I knew that already."

 _Of course you do!_

"You know how I was repeatedly attacked all this year?" Victoria nodded. "Well, all of that has had an impact on Harry. I think he believes that he is responsible for the attacks on m person. After all, Peter Pettigrew attacked me to get to him. And the next one, well everyone knows that I am his betrothed."

"He blames himself." Victoria concluded succinctly.

"And I myself. I have seen his power mum. He is way too powerful, and yet, he had been insufferably patient with me all this time, especially during our lessons. Despite his rigorous training schedule and everything, he has always made time for me, made sure that I am well acquainted with defensive spells and procedures. I do not hold a finger to his skill and power, and yet, he had almost always, deferred to me in public. Let's not forget the way I was..." Daphne paused for a moment, "acting all bitchy to him for the first couple of months."

Victoria nodded.

"and then, I have to act like a Gryffindorish imbecile," Victoria winced, "and get all blown up at the fourth floor corridor, and he had to once again save the day. And need I mention the Dementors?" she shouted out, not being able to hold back her emotions.

"You feel useless." Victoria concluded.

"Yes!" Daphne sighed, sitting down on the couch, "and I feel that Harry is somehow feeling that if he stays close to me, I will get into more life threatening situations. He believes that until he has caught the attacker, he is a danger to my presence."

"Protective Gryffindor!" Her mother surmised.

"Way too much!" Daphne countered sassily.

"What do you want, Daphne?" she finally asked.

"I ... do not want to be useless."

"And you won't." another voice reverberated across the room. Daphne and her mum looked at the source sharply.

It was Viridian. "I am sorry; I couldn't help but listen into your ... lamenting." Daphne rolled her eyes. "But as I was saying, you will not be useless."

The grand old lady strode across the room to her grandniece.

"You remember Queenie, how I always said that your magic was like a tree, branching out in roots? How you complained that you did not have the wave of magic rushing out, like your father?"

Daphne nodded.

"Well I know of one such profession that requires a branching magical aura. The profession of mind healing. You could be great in that profession. It is nice that you want to be adept at Defense, that is great and all; but do you truly want to do that instead of seeking out the maximum of your magical abilities?"

Daphne stood stumped, considering her words.

"Your betrothed has a rushing wave as his aura, he is a warrior, plain and simple. You on the other hand, can be a healer, and a great one if I have my way. Mind healing is one of the most intricate arts in the field of healing, and I _see_ you making great strides in that field."

Victoria smiled. She knew that Viridian Greengrass had seer abilities, although she never practiced them publicly.

"Now, will you continue your mopping around, or perhaps I could introduce you to some fundamental aspects of mind healing?"

Daphne nodded, smiling serenely at her grand aunt. Wiping her tears, she hugged the two most precious women in her life.

* * *

 **## a short chapter, but I wanted to have some Daphne-scene before I move onto more Harry-matters. Read and review!**


	47. ROTS 03: OWLS

Harry appeared in mainstream London, exact to the coordinates mentioned in the letter. It was a street that comprised of many shabby looking small offices, a couple of pubs and an overflowing dumpster. And to his left, there was a dilapidated telephone booth that had a couple of broken window panes. Not a really impressive location for the famous Ministry of magic.

 _Is this really the entry point for the Ministry?_

"The telephone booth, six, two, four, four, two?" he wondered, looking at the strange address on his parchment. Then recognition hit him. Walking into the booth, he dialed the respective numbers.

"six... two... four... four... two! Ah! Magic"

An invisible cool voice resounded inside the booth. It was of a woman.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

 _Odd._

"Harry Potter. To appear at the Wizarding Examinations Authority for OWL testing."

"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: It was a square silver badge.

 _Harry Potter, Overachiever._

He smirked at the writing on the badge.

 _There is no way I am pining that to my robe._

The female voice spoke again.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. He was sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement rose up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over his head. Then he could see nothing at all; he could only hear a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes from watering.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the woman's voice.

 _Weird._

The door opened with a small bang and he found himself standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock-blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that were continually moving and changing like some enormous heavenly notice board. The walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft _whoosh_ ; on the right-hand side, short queues of wizards were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart. Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf 's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of people apparating in; and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode toward a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

 _And modest too!_ Harry thought scornfully about the grandiose statue.

He reread the parchment in his hand. He was supposed to cross the fountain, and enter the lift. He walked up to the small pool on the way, a fountain arising out of it, and noticed the gold and silver coins at the bottom of the pool. He noticed the writing on the small board over it.

 **All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries**

 _If I win the tournament, I am donating the entire prize here._

He walked out of the main gate towards the lift. There was a wizard sitting over a desk in front of it, written SECURITY in smudged ink.

"Please submit your wand here for registration."

"Sure." Harry spoke out, and submitted his wand over. The guard passed his wand through a brass instrument, and a couple of tiny parchments shot out of the narrow slit at its base. The wizard held the parchment slips and read out.

"Deathwood and Unknown core. Belongs to Harry..." he shot a look at Harry's face, and then to his scar, as he uttered, "James Potter, been in service for eight months."

Harry smirked. The wizard stood up briskly, "Mr. Potter, how nice to finally meet you. Your wand..." he handed over the wand back to Harry, "is quite... strange. The core says unknown and..."

Harry could not help but smirk a little. "Yes, there is quite an interesting story behind it. You see I was..." he began.

"It's all right Mr. Potter, you can go." The wizard replied back with a shaky smile. Harry nodded and went off on his way.

There were at least twenty lifts on that corridor. Harry took one at random. Entering inside, he was greeted by that same familiar voice. "Please enter your level number." Pressing the number six on the dial, the lift zoomed up and before Harry could fathom what had happened, the lift came to a standstill.

"Level Six. Wizarding Examinations Authority."

Harry walked in to find a silver door at the end of the corridor he was on.

 _By magic, this place is big._

"OWL Testing Office." Harry knocked the door which opened on its own. He walked in to find a really old lady sat on a plush chair, surrounded by a round desk and loads of parchment.

"Name?" she asked.

"Harry James Potter."

"Ah! Lord Potter. I was expecting you. Now I have no doubt you are quite talented and everything, but do you really think you can afford to sit for your OWLs now? You are only in..." she pored over a file, and then looked back at him, "in your third year, presently. Correct?"

Harry smiled. "Yes."

Finding no change or reply in the boy's expression, she replied. "Fine. Be it on your head. You should know that in case you fail, the record will stay there forever, even if you take them again. On Harry's nod, she gave away. "Come with me."

She walked up to a door and stepped inside. A bald man, who appeared in his fifties, sat there, writing on some parchment. Looking up at his visitors, he exclaimed, "Madam Marchbanks, how may I assist you?"

"This young man here," she pointed at Harry, "wants to sit for his OWLS a bit prematurely in..." she glanced at the parchment at hand, "in DADA, Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. His name is Harry James Potter." At the look on the wizard's face, she sighed and continued, "Yes, _that_ Harry James Potter."

Harry put on his brightest smile in return.

The wizard nodded. "Very well." He squeaked.

* * *

The next six hours went in furious scribbling, as Harry wrote his papers for Transfiguration, Charms and Arithmancy. He then had a half hour break for lunch, which was luckily provided by the Ministry, and then his scribbling continued for another four hours, for his papers on Runes and DADA. After he was done, and it was nearly evening by then; Madam Marchbanks came down and informed him that he would have his practical testing after half an hour.

Harry met with Professor Tofty, who recognized him instantly. Hearing about his attempt at OWL's, the old man was very pleased.

"Professor Tofty here, will be invigilating your practical in Charms and Transfiguration. Then, you shall accompany me for the rest of your exams."

Harry nodded, while the lady walked out, muttering about crazy kids, endless stamina, and overachievers. Harry couldn't help but smirk.

After twenty minutes of rigorous spell testing according to Tofty, and basic charm casting according to Harry, he was done with the two exams. The way the old man was winking at him, Harry was sure that he had got an Outstanding in both, Harry went off with Madam Marchbanks for his other tests.

"This is Junior Auror Tonks. She is one of the best of the freshman cadets that graduated from the Auror Academy this session. She has been asked to invigilate your DADA testing and your dueling skills. I will leave Auror Tonks to explain the rest."

Auror Tonks was a ... strange... girl. Harry couldn't really call her a woman, what with the way she had that ridiculous pink hair, and was almost bouncing while attempting to explain the rules of the exam.

"So kiddo... I want you to demonstrate a couple of curses and shields for me, and then we will move on to the dueling part. Understand?" Harry nodded, smirking inwardly.

"Now," she waved her wand like a baton, "I want you to perform the Protego shield."

Harry swished his wand up and a solid golden shield manifested itself.

Tonks stared in wonder. The Protego shield that stood in front of her, was better than she had ever produced. There were zero ripples on it. Morgana's tits, she only knew one person who could have performed that spell so effortlessly. Alastor Moody.

"Well," she regained her spirit, "that was ... good. Now I will create a shield and you will cast your strongest stupefy spell on me. Don't worry, I can handle it. Now ready?"

Harry nodded and cast a near standard stunning spell, adding some of his innate energy to the spell. It hit her shield, shattering it into smithereens, pushing her back by its sheer force.

 _Merlin, the boy does pack a punch!_

"all right, all right, I get it you are quite good at this." She then stood in front of him, and winked saucily, "can you show me something spectacular? For a bonus point, I mean?"

"Sure." Harry replied and then, whispered, "Expecto Patronum."

A silvery burst of energy hurled out of his hand. An ethereal wolf emerged out of his energy mist and drifted in front of him, looking ahead, expecting an attack. Tonks widened her eyes in wonder, and reached out to touch the ethereal animal. It was solid, and had a wet feeling to it.

"This is solid..." She couldn't help but express herself out.

"will that suffice?" Harry asked.

Tonks nodded, and Harry let the Patronus fade away.

Tonks was completely bewildered. Who was this boy? There was something familiar about him, but she could not remember meeting him before. She composed herself and spoke back.

"That will suffice. Now for your dueling. You stand there," she pointed to one end of the corridor, "and I will stand here. We will continue the duel until one of us loses our wand, or yields, or is rendered incapacitated. Got my point right?"

Harry nodded.

"Very well." She murmured.

Being a metamorphmagus had its advantages. Yes, the ability to manipulate her body mass to morph into any other person was very effective, but another side advantage was that it enabled her to change her Centre of gravity at will. That helped her to side step curses more effectively than the average wizard. There was a reason after all, that she was one of the top cadets of her year.

"Begin."

Harry stood, twirling his wand in his fingers, as if taunting her to place the first spell. Tonks took it as a challenge and rapidly started firing a series of stunning and blasting curses. Harry side stepped each and every spell with almost no effort. He did not shift or roll like normal wizards did, instead he appeared to sail and skim through the spells with the minimum possible movement. Finally, he fired a blasting curse that somehow intercepted her final curse midway, causing a miniature explosion.

Tonks gaped in wonder.

Then putting herself back together, she started firing again.

Harry saw the initial stream of spells barge at him. He smirked inwardly at their speed and potency. Magic knew he had the Room firing spells of much greater potency at him, from all corners, and those were deadly curses. Just like his martial arts tutor had taught him, he weaved through the spells, deflecting only when necessary and then fired a low powered reductor back at his invigilator. His curse hit the oncoming spell head on, causing a miniature explosion. If he wanted to make his presence known, a bit of fancy spell work was imminent.

 _So damn slow!_

Harry saw Tonks firing up a second stream of spells, and decided to end the show once and for all. He had been here since early morning and it was now getting to him. He put on a offensive shield that deflected the oncoming curses and then fired a bludgeoning spell at his invigilator's feet, uplifting her from the feet and thrashing her outward. He added a disarming charm to his chain and the brown wand that belonged to his invigilator now spun back to him. Twirling the newly won wand in his left hand, he put on his most charming smile and replied.

"Are we done?"

After being thrashed off by her examinee, Tonks was highly embarrassed. She nodded meekly and pointed towards the doorway. As Harry was about to depart, Tonks called him back.

"Hey, wait! What is your name?" She didn't add 'kid' to the sentence, she just couldn't.

Harry smiled.

"Harry Potter." He departed.

"Fuck."

* * *

 **### Okay, that goes the OWL testing. I plan on getting some normality restored to the story after the constant action packed scenes that the last few chapters have been full of. Please enjoy, AND REVIEW!**


	48. ROTS 04: A secret agreement

Lucius Malfoy believed himself a good judge of human character. Normally the stoic head of Malfoy would not get anxious with any kind of political moves; but he was worried about the day's meeting. Harry Potter, the Lord Slytherin would be coming to meet him. After his assurances that no harm would come to his person during his stay at Malfoy Manor, the young Lord had acquiesced to holding the meeting at Malfoy Manor. Potter had so far, proved to be rather Gryffindorish. He had agreed to meet at his family's manor. Lucius had expected him to set the venue at Gringotts at the best.

Harry Potter apparated on the lush grounds surrounding Malfoy Manor. Walking up to the gates, he felt the wards turn to his presence as he tried to get a weak point in them. He found two such weak links, but decided to hold onto that information for later. The gates opened as the Malfoy elf. Harry suddenly realized with a grin that he had snatched Lord Malfoy's elf in second year. He followed the elf who led him to the hall way.

"Lord Slytherin." The casual voice of Lucius Malfoy boomed out of the hallway. It was very well done, Harry thought. The casual tone, neither familiar nor antagonistic, just the right amount of stoicism that could be used when dealing with a potential ally. Harry nodded back, "Lord Malfoy."

"Please follow me." Lucius led him to a gracefully decorated drawing room. The walls and floor were plated with expensive marble and the chandelier and the arch presented a charming look. This was a house of a Lord of expensive taste.

"I hope the grace of my manor is to your taste, my Lord."

Harry inclined his head minutely. Lucius stood before him, and waved his wand out. Harry still stood smiling, as if he was completely unmoved by his action; something that was not unnoticed by Malfoy. Swishing his wand up, he whispered, "I swear on the honor of my family that I mean no harm to your person, and am no way involved in any action that involves any harm to your person. So have I said, so mote it be."

His wand radiated a light blue sheen as the oath took effect. Harry's eyes glinted at the oath, "I appreciate the gesture, though it was unwanted."

"I merely wanted to demolish away any unfiltered thoughts from interrupting our conversation."

Harry nodded.

Sitting opposite to the young Lord, Lucius began. "So Lord Slytherin, or should I say, Lord Potter?"

"Either is fine, thank you."

"You sure look different my Lord. A lot different in every way, since our... previous encounter."

Harry smirked. "I grew up."

"Very well." Lucius's forehead furrowed a bit as he continued, "I suppose you do know about the treaty between our Houses?"

"I admit to checking out a couple of facts about it, but I would be grateful if you would share a brief picture of the whole thing."

"Very well... the families of Malfoy and Slytherin had been friends at best and business associates at worst since over eight hundred years. Near the end of the sixteenth century, House Malfoy entered into a treaty with House Slytherin, a _détente agreement_ to be precise."

"A détente agreement?" Harry inquired.

"The two houses agreed _not_ to kill each other."

 _Fuck!_

"I ... see", Harry uttered.

Lucius smirked.

"Lord Malfoy, will you mind if we... cut out the dance and talk a bit openly?" Harry urged.

"Go on."

"I know that you were a death eater, or at least accused to be one. You had given Ginny Weasley the diary that ushered in the horrors of my second year at school, something that confirms my former statement." Harry watched Lucius for any change of expression. Finding none, he continued.

"Let us hypothetically assume that what you know is correct, please continue." Lucius replied with a smirk.

"Very well..." Two could play this game, Harry thought. "So say that if the dark lord hypothetically survived and managed to return back, would you ..."

"Rejoin the dark lord? I am afraid I have no choice." Lucius interrupted.

 _Interesting!_

"So tell me Mr. Malfoy, why keep this détente agreement at all, if you are sure to join the enemy, hypothetically speaking of course."

"Because the one to forfeit the agreement would have to pay out half his fortune to the other." Lucius ended with a sigh.

 _And here we arrive at the main problem._

"I... understand. But then, you could simply stay neutral in the fight. Why follow the dark lord at all?" Harry asked, leaving out the hypothetical game.

"Because," Lucius's eyes glinted with a certain emotion that Harry understood to be fury, "because I am _branded_ ," he said with distaste, "with the dark lord's mark."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And?"

"When one takes the mark, they all but declare them as servants of the dark lord. They have to take up wands for the dark lord's banner, and cannot take arms against him. The moment I fire a spell against him, the dark mark will kill me." He continued with that distasteful expression.

Harry sat in silence. This changed things. "What do you suggest, Lord Malfoy?"

"I have carefully thought out a plan, although I need you to agree with it. It is ..." he squinted, "my only solace out of this oncoming war."

 _So the dark lord is coming back, and soon..._

"I am listening."

"I present a treaty shrouded in a secrecy agreement. For the rest of the world, we will be on opposite sides of the spectrum, to keep the illusions on." Harry smirked on Lucius' use of the word _Illusion_ , "however, secretly I will feed you with any kind of intelligence that may help you in your war against the dark lord, provided you are indulging in one."

"Go on."

"Nobody is to know about this agreement, not even my son. I know you and my son are having quite an ... _unpleasant_ relationship," Harry sniggered at the thought. He and Draco were almost arch enemies; "and that will remain as it is, to keep up the shroud. I will swear not to intentionally attack anyone of your extended family, unless the attack comes from them first; and you will offer the same to me."

"I can... agree to that."

"I will share with you, everything I know about the dark lord; and I hope you will also answer some questions about your lordship to me honestly."

Harry nodded in acceptance.

 _What do you think, Nidhogg?_

" _It is... not bad."_ The serpent replied back from his mindscape.

"I find the conditions fair, provided that the agreement is between you and me, specifically."

Lucius's eyes widened. "Will you be willing to sign the agreement in blood?"

"I will."

Nodding in silence, he called for his elf for a legal parchment and seal. Sitting together, the two lords wrote down the salient features of the agreement, and double checked everything, from both legal and magical point of view. Finding everything to be proper, they signed the agreement in blood, using a blood quill to be precise.

After they were done, the two lords shook hands. "I hope this enables us to come out of the oncoming war safely..." Lucius began but Harry interrupted, "and in profit."

* * *

Sirius Black was the happiest wizard on earth today. He had finally been given a green signal from his mind healer and had returned from Thailand for the final time. The Black house elf, Kreacher had bitingly accepted him as the new Lord Black, after Sirius had revealed his lord ring. Despite his personal beliefs that his master was a spoiled blood traitor that had broken his mistress's heart, the old and almost senile elf had been forced to accept him as his proper master, and had begun working to renovate the ancestral Black townhouse in London. That had happened on Christmas. Now after almost six months in the passing, the newly coined Black Manor was repainted in neutral colors, the gothic horrors that had plagued the house had been removed and relieved off. Sirius had rebuilt a part of the Manor and reactivated the ancient blood wards. Tuned to him and him only, Sirius had made great strides in changing the entire outlook of the entire manor. The library was shifted into a pocket dimension using expansion charms clinically, something that the goblins were experts at doing. The goblins had done fantastic work, and the newly coined Lord Black had the money to afford it.

All that now remained was to invite his dear godson to live with him.

"Sirius!" A haggard voice came out of the doorway. It was his friend and fellow marauder, Remus Lupin. He was carrying a wad of letters, as he strode towards him. Sirius had coined Remus as his financial manager and assistant, thus providing the old werewolf with a ransom salary and public representation; something that Remus had difficulty getting due to his status as a werewolf. Now however, with his new position, his brand new formal robes and a reasonable amount in his vault, Remus's countenance and social outlook had changed.

"This letter... has come for you. The rest are... well I will go through them first."

Sirius took the letter from his friend's hand. It had the seal of the Ancient House of Bones.

 _Amelia!_

Opening the letter, he greedily read the contents.

Remus saw his friend open the letter and read it with relish. He saw his friend stand in shock, as if petrified by some news. Fearing something anathema had happened, he touched his friend's arm.

"Sirius? What's wrong?"

"You remember how I was the ladies' man in Hogwarts? Every girl wanted to be with me, but I had eyes for only one, and she had refused my offer of marriage?"

Remus relaxed. He knew what Sirius was talking about.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, that woman, who had rejected me then, wants me to come back into her life." He looked up to his friend's grinning face, "Amelia Bones has sent me a proposal of marriage."

* * *

"So tell me about the Diary."

"The Dark Lord had summoned me to his chamber, along with Bellatrix and Regulus. We were to be awarded because of our efforts and service to the dark lord. I do not know what he gave the other two, but he handed me a black diary and told me to guard it with my life."

"Regulus and Bellatrix?"

"Regulus Black, brother to Sirius Black." Lucius' smirked at Harry's widened eyes, "and Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, wife to Rudolphus Lestrange."

"Carry on."

"I knew it was a dark artifact, and my suspicions over its foul nature was reinforced by... specialists, and I decided to put it into the Weasley girl's cauldron. It seemed like an excellent way to get rid of the artifact. Arthur Weasley would surely inspect it and it would be found. I thought that I could even play the game skillfully and cause him endless trouble over it."

"You wanted it to be found?" Harry asked, his eyes widening.

"Of course, my son attends that school." Lucius shouted out indignantly. "I may be a cunning politician, but my family comes before anything else."

"I ... understand."

"I need to know... about the other _gifts_ given out by the dark lord, Mr. Malfoy."

"I will see what I can do. But before that, I want some... _assurances_."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Assurances?"

"Malfoys are known to stand on the winning side, Mr. Potter. I have already helped you the least of it, I deserve some assurances that you hold some claim over ... vanquishing the dark lord all those years ago."

 _Interesting._

"You want to confirm if I really did anything, or if it was just a fluke." Harry stated. It wasn't a question. It was a fact.

Lucius sat up straight and looked at him in the eye. "I am."

"very well".

 _Nidhogg?_

" _show him_."

Harry held out his right arm. His wand was still safely stuck inside his holster. Radiating his palm outward, he sent out a burst of energy. Pure, raw energy in the form of flames burst out of his empty palm. The flames fused together and formed a miniature dragon that roared out. Observing Lucius's gob smacked expression, he smirked. Snapping his fingers, he let the fiery manifestation fade out of existence.

"Was that... enough to suffice your doubts?"

"Yes... Very much." Lucius replied in an awed voice, his mind still trying to accept the revelation before him.

"How...how?" he tried to express his wonder.

"It was... just a fluke." Harry finished with a smirk. "It has been nice, meeting you Mr. Malfoy. I promise I will be in touch soon."

Walking out of the gates, he apparated; leaving a stumped Lucius Malfoy behind.

* * *

 **## Review! review!**


	49. ROTS 05: Secrets and Family

Harry apparated to the lush green grounds of Greengrass Manor. Ever since he had learnt to apparate, and had left for the holidays, he had been tandem apparating all over. Harry presumed it had been easy for him, since he had unintentionally done it inadvertently in his childhood, while escaping Dudley and his cronies in their "Harry hunting" sessions. His stay at the manor had also helped him get more comfortable at it, not to mention the tandem apparating that he had done to travel to the many destinations, sometimes to collect ingredients, sometimes to buy obscure books, and then to the Ministry and of course, Malfoy Manor. He could now vanish off with a near silent pop, a great improvement from the loud cracking that accompanied his first successful attempts.

Looking at the greenery all around him, Harry could not but accept that the family was aptly named. Green Grass indeed. The family had large ventures in plantations, greenhouses, and potion ingredients. Cyrus Greengrass was a certified herbologist before he took over his family seat at the Wizengamot.

He felt the wards surrounding the manor grant him entry. Cyrus must have added his signature to the wards the last time Harry was there. Getting ready for being chewed by an angry Daphne Greengrass, Harry walked up to the main door.

Daphne was sitting down, chatting away with her sister about random stuff when she heard the door bell ring. Wondering who might have come to their manor unstated previously, she walked up front and opened the door.

Harry Potter stood outside.

Well, not exactly Harry Potter. A rather, different looking Harry Potter stood outside.

"Harry?" she resounded, not sure what to say.

"Hi, Daphne!" Harry grinned.

Daphne rushed up to him and attacked him head on, making both of them nearly fall down on the ground. She hugged him tightly, her face trying to hide amidst the robe fluttering above his chest. Looking up after a moment, she spoke back, rather numbly. "Where were you?"

Harry put on his trademarked side loped grin. "I was in my family manor, and also in a lot of different places. Had lots of work to catch up with."

"uh huh," Daphne blinked, "and you could not even get the time to send me a single letter?"

"Uh Daphne! I ... I would say that I am sorry but I don't think it will work so..." he suddenly kissed her lips, although rather chastely.

Daphne blinked. "What was that?"

"My rather hopeless attempt at trying to stop you from killing me for my insolence?" Harry tried.

"You should have done better." Daphne smirked.

"Well, practice makes perfect, so..." he closed up on her as they kissed... deeply.

"Ahem!"

Harry and Daphne sprung back instantly at the sound. He found a rather amused Victoria Greengrass smirking at them.

"Lady Greengrass, I mean Victoria, I'm glad to see you."

"Sure", Victoria replied saucily. "Well unless your objective was to stand at our door and kiss our daughter, and then leave, I think you should come in."

Harry gulped. "sure thing."

"Harry!" cried little Astoria, "I missed you..."

"I missed the little teddy bear too", Harry countered, hugging the little girl. "I brought you chocolates. But promise you won't steal from your sister's stash again?" he whispered silently.

Astoria's eyes widened, she bobbed her head up and down, "Deal." She said smugly.

"Well," he took out a small box out of his robes and handed it out to her, "this is for you."

Astoria hugged her wannabe-brother-in-law, who had grown to be a brother to her, and sprung away with the box.

"You are spoiling her rotten, the little devil." Daphne remarked.

"Well she deserves to be." Harry countered.

They sat on the couch in the hallway; Daphne sitting close next to Harry, a behavior that was not unnoticed by her mother. Victoria sat on the opposite couch.

"So Harry, I am sure you already have people telling you, but you look rather different." Victoria remarked.

"Well, I have had some growing up to do in the last month." Daphne looked up sharply at him, knowing that he was telling a blatant lie. Harry continued, "I had my magic mature, and some more family-things happened, that caused this development."

Victoria nodded, she did not want to pester him about it. Harry looked like a boy of sixteen or seventeen rather than the fourteen-year-old that he was. His face had undergone a few changes, so had his hair and his muscle tone. He was also taller. She briefly wondered how devastatingly handsome he would be when he would reach his twenties.

"Well, Daphne here was growing more and more beautiful day by day", Daphne blushed lightly at the comment, "and I had to do something. Else people would just ignore me in her presence." Harry replied with mirth.

"Definitely a keeper!" Victoria remarked at her daughter, who blushed at her mother's implication. "So how long are you staying here?"

"A week I think, although I also need to attend Sirius' party. I hope Daphne can accompany me there, as would you and the rest of the family."

"We would love to. Sirius has already sent us the invitation."

"I never got one." Harry complained good naturedly, "Sirius just Floo called me and all but ordered me to, and I quote his words, 'get my arse off to his place.'"

"Well I need to go check on Astoria, why don't you lovebirds go to Queenie's room? I am sure you have," she wiggled her eyebrows at her daughter, who blushed at the implication, "a lot of catching up to do."

With a mirthful laugh, Victoria ceded from the hall.

* * *

Harry had hardly stepped into Daphne's room when he was bodily hurled towards the wall by a rather excited Daphne. Pining him to the wall, Daphne kissed him furiously, as if fearing that he would just vanish away if she let him be free. Harry kissed her back with equal passion. She kissed him with reckless abandon and he began to lose himself in the feeling of her lips. Her hands went up into his luxuriant hair as she pressed herself eagerly into him. After full ten minutes, she stepped away from him, her face flushed, her lips swollen and her hair in a mess.

Harry kept staring at her with a silly grin on his face, "Not that I am complaining, but what did I do to deserve that?"

"I just missed you."

"Well... I missed you too."

"Don't you lie to me, Harry James Potter." She hit him hard on his chest, causing him to utter a loud 'Oww'. "If you had, you would have at least contacted me once in the past one month."

Harry sighed. "Daphne you know I-"

"If you blame yourself one more time, I am not letting you come near me for one week."

Harry's gloomy countenance immediately vaporized and was replaced by a smirk. "Well then, miss Greengrass, that works both ways."

"Oh Damn!" Daphne muttered good naturedly, "well bugger it then, I am not letting my kissing-time with you get spoilt."

"so there is a _'kissing-time'_ ," Harry asked, emphasizing with his two hands.

"of course!"

"well, who am I to complain?"

"Damn right!" Daphne whispered as she drew close to him again.

* * *

"What has happened to you, Harry?" Daphne asked. She had her head on his shoulder as they sat on the couch in her room.

"I ... can't really say." Harry grounded out.

"You _do not_ know, or you _cannot_ say?" Daphne pressed.

Harry smirked. Trust Daphne, his cunning snake, to ask the correct questions. Perfectly spot on.

"How good is your Occlumency?" he finally asked.

"Decent. I can hold my own."

Harry thought hard. "Can you take an oath of silence then?"

 _"_ _You did not ask for the oath with Malfoy!"_ Nidhogg hissed.

 _The agreement covers that._

 _"_ _oh!"_

Daphne's eyes glinted with interest. The oath of silence was an obscure oath. The two practitioners involved in the oath promised to magic that they would never intentionally reveal the subject of the oath to anyone. The magic of the oath then covered the information from intrusive attacks, and it was nearly impossible to get the information out, even by an expert Legilimens. It was for a reason after all, that the oath of silence was regarded as just one step away from the Fidelius.

"I would."

 _Very well._

He held out his hand, and Daphne recognized the gesture. She put her palm atop his,and felt Harry's magic soaring.

"Will you Daphne Victoria Greengrass, swear to keep my secrets in silence, and not reveal to them, voluntarily or intentionally, unless I give you my express permission?"

"I will."

"so mote it be."

"So mote it be." Daphne finished, as she felt the tendrils of the magic grasp their palms, forming a cocoon like structure, which faded away into their hands. Raising a high powered privacy ward, Harry sat down on the couch. "We can talk now."

"What's with the privacy? You know you can trust my family. Right?" Daphne understood security, but this was extreme paranoia. It was as if Harry did not trust her, never mind her family.

"It is not about trust, but rather about safeguarding extremely private information. You do remember the battle with the Dementors, right?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't call it a battle. It was a massacre. You basically obliterated the entire horde. It was in the newspaper even, something about you using unseen obscure magic to do it. There was even speculation about family magic being involved."

 _They don't know how true they are._

"Do you remember what I did?"

"I remember you creating a shield of fire around us, but then the Dementors swooped in from the top and we started falling dizzy and cold. When I woke up again, there was this mist of bluish white energy swirling around. It felt so good, like I was very happy or something. Strange I know," Daphne's lips puckered as she reminisced. "there was this prowling wolf, I guess that was your Patronus attacking the Dementors, and above us was that-"

She remembered the huge fiery reptile, the outspread wings, the gargantuan flames hurling out of its mouth. "I remember seeing that huge snake, with fiery wings..." Daphne thought hard, her mind trying to figure out; "It was a Quetzalcoatl, yes that was it."

She looked up at Harry for confirmation, who simply nodded subtly, "The creature, you had created it. Right?"

 _Summoned._

Nidhogg laughed aloud in his mindscape.

"I summoned it." He replied back, softly.

"Summoned. But Harry, it was made of fire, or at least appeared to be. How can you... summon such a thing?"

"We will come to that, but first, let's continue with you."

Daphne nodded. "That snake burnt off the Dementors and then it faded away. I know you fell unconscious after that. And then Hagrid came up, the rest is a bit blurry. I think I had fallen asleep."

"Hmmm."

Daphne raised her eyebrows.

"Tell me Daphne, what do you know about elementals?"

Her eyes squinted. Surely Harry didn't mean what she thought he meant. She had a suspicion, but it was a theory. Deciding to test it, she went along. "I know elementals are very powerful mages of old. I know that the last elemental was defeated by Merlin, and was ages ago. I know that elementals are deeply hated by the ancient families, because they are regarded as harbingers of destruction. The last elemental had wiped away a lot of members of the Ancient families or something. I know that they have perfect control over a single element, like water, air, earth or..." she glanced up at Harry as the truth hit her, "fire."

 _This will make or break._

 _"_ _There is always the Obliviate spell."_ Nidhogg suggested.

 _No._

Harry held out his palm upwards. Daphne looked down on his palm. A reddish tinge started to appear and then, a dazzling red flame erupted out of his palm. The flames burnt, radiating light and heat, and seemed to be brimming with energy. Instantly she was reminded how Harry had burnt the Dementors during her first Hogsmeade date.

"Watch!"

The flames fused into each other to form a sphere which then melted, forming out what seemed to be limbs. Soon enough, a miniature four legged creature, a unicorn this time, completely made of fire, stood in the air.

"that's... that's..." Daphne tried to enunciate her shock. Turning to Harry, "You are an elemental?"

Harry smiled. His trademarked side lopped grin.

"don't grin at me!" Daphne snapped. Her tone suddenly changing to one of curiosity and awe, "You are a fire elemental?"

Harry nodded.

"You do not have any plans of destroying magical Britain outright, do you?" She asked after a moment.

"Not in the near future." Harry joked.

"Harry!" She hissed furiously, "This is serious. There are people who would frame you should they know about this."

"I know..." Harry sighed.

"So that is how... your look has changed?"

"yes."

 _Well, that was not completely a lie anyway._

"this is..." Daphne tried to enunciate, but nothing came up.

"Crazy, I know." Harry finished for her. "I was away, trying to stabilize my powers, or else, I might change into something that could actually destroy the world."

 _"_ _At least give me some credit"_ , Nidhogg complained from his mindscape.

 _Oh shut up, infernal creature._

"So, are we done? With the oath I mean?" Daphne queried.

"Huh? Oh yeah, we are." He hissed, and the privacy ward vanished.

"That hissing thing always gives me creeps." Daphne muttered.

"Well Parseltongue is powerful, and can be used to erect high powered wards easily." Harry countered. "Now tell me about that mind healing thing you were mentioning." He lifted Daphne off the couch and brought her onto his lap.

 _And I didn't even need the Obliviate spell._

* * *

Five days had passed and Harry could not believe how quickly time had passed. He had moved in to Daphne's room for most purposes, only at night, would he return to his own room, not to mention the extremely cozy moments the couple would spend together for over two hours before Daphne allowed Harry to retire within the confines of his own room. The mornings were fun, Harry would go out with Cyrus on some meetings with his associates and if not, busy himself with his newly found appreciation for Golf. Cyrus, being in constant dealing with magical and mundane alike, had found an instant liking to the muggle sport and had not wasted a moment indoctrinating Harry to his new obsession. What resulted was Harry being bodily taken away to the lush green grounds for an hour or two of said sport. Harry would sometimes visit the potion greenhouses, often making note of the ingredients there, asking Nidhogg if any of them were of any use in their rather peculiar rituals. Daphne would be busy likewise in her studies on mind healing from the books Viridian had collected from some of her associates. The family would have a group lunch at noon and by the evening, Victoria would pester Harry for a game of magical chess. One thing was sure, harry was never going to be a chess master, but the games with his wannabe mother-in-law were fun. The evenings were spent in cuddling with his betrothed, talking about random stuff, followed by a rather heated snog session before they retired for the night.

It was Friday, and they were supposed to attend the party at Black manor. Holding the piece of parchment that his mutt of a godfather had sent him, he read the words out loud.

" **Mr. Sirius Black welcomes you to number 12, Grimmauld Place**."

The parchment glowed blue, signaling its function as portkey, and the family held Harry tightly, as the tug came and whisked the entire family away.

* * *

 **## A couple of more chapters before we move on to the tournament. Review! Review!**


	50. ROTS 06: A grand party

Harry and the Greengrass family appeared out of nowhere on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a desolate street. The grimy fronts of the surrounding houses were not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the light from the streetlamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors, and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps. The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from an upper window in the nearest house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish came from the pile of bulging bin-bags just inside the broken gate.

Knowing how the Fidelius worked, Harry thought of what he had read in the parchment. He was standing in front of house number 11 at Grimmauld Place and the immediate next was number 13. The air around them shifted and it seemed like out of nowhere, an extra house had inflated out, and pushed the two houses to either sides. The newly spotted number 12, however, looked at least a bit neater and clean.

"Is this place haunted daddy?" Astoria squirmed in between. Cyrus laughed. The group entered through the gates, and Harry felt the wards allow him entry.

 _Perhaps because the Black blood in me._

Turning around at his fellow companions, he saw the distasteful expressions on their faces, confirming his theory. The door knob rotated, and Harry found Sirius, looking remarkably better than his previous encounter with him, standing inside.

"Apologies, I am still working on adjusting the wards of this townhouse. Merlin knows the house is kind of, overdosed with wards. Please, come in." He waved them entry.

Stepping inside, Harry was relieved to find the interiors much more comforting than the desolate and grim frontage. He felt Sirius's hand on his shoulder, as Sirius pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm glad that you are finally here Prongslet."

 _"_ _Ha-ha! That was hilarious! Prongslet?" Nidhogg hissed with mirth._

 _Shut up._

"Are you well, pup?"

Harry nodded, "I am."

"You do look different, though, although I am seeing you properly after a long time."

"How..." Harry hesitated for a moment, "How did the mind healing go, Padfoot?"

Sirius waved his hand aside. "It was ... useful and enlightening. There are certain things I need to discuss with you, but in private. I hope you are going to stay here with me for the rest of the holidays?"

Harry looked hard at his godfather. "Sirius, I am participating in the dueling tournament this France. You remember?"

"Oh yes! Sorry, it went completely out of my mind. So when do you need to leave?"

"Professor Flitwick will meet with me next week at the Leaky Cauldron. Are you going to-?

"Accompany you?" Sirius finished Harry's question.

Harry nodded.

"I will, but not with you. You shall see me before the tournament begins."

Harry nodded, "Oh!" He could not help but be a little disappointed.

"Don't be disappointed pup. I can't accompany you because Moony got a bout of Dragon Pox. He is still there, in Thailand and I need to check if he is well. Either way, I will be meeting you in Paris before the tournament. Now there is something I need to talk to you about."

Harry gestured him to continue. "You know, when you were born, I was the first one to hold you. Your father had been out for some reason, and I had stayed during Lily's child birth. I absolutely dotted on you then. I handed you over to your mother who then held you in her arms."

Sirius paused for a moment, "I know you and I do not know each other well, but I want you to know that I think of you as a son, and it being such, I want you to be my heir."

Harry looked up at his godfather in surprise. "But Sirius, what about your-"

"My family? I am coming to that. You know Amelia right? She is Susan's aunt."

Harry blinked. "Yes, I have heard of her, never met though."

"Well, I ..." Sirius paused for a minute, deciding what approach to take, "am marrying her."

Harry blinked. Then blinked again.

"Did you just say that you are marrying Susan's aunt?"

Sirius grinned.

"But how... I mean... when did all this happen?"

Sirius put his arm around his godson. "Take a walk with me?"

Harry let him lead the way. They traversed through a secluded part of the manor, away from the sounds of the hall.

"Amelia and I... we were a couple during the last war. She had previously rejected my offer of marriage, though I never understood why then. Now, thirteen years later, we have decided to tie the bond."

"And what about this heirship thing?"

"I am coming to that." Sirius paused for a moment. "I have, well, never really been a big fan of the principles of my family's propaganda. Even the family magic tends to feel almost suffocating to me. I guess it is because I never accepted it truly. Ever since I joined Hogwarts, I have tried to do things that set myself apart from my family. My being a Gryffindor, joining the Light side of the political spectrum, my war against Voldemort, my being friends with your dad; you get the idea. I guess, what I wanted to say is, I may be a Black by name and blood, but I have never been a Black by soul. Even this Lordship, I took it for your insistence. All these mind healing sessions that I had, I realized that I just want to be happy. And being Lord Black and embracing the Black values goes against my happiness."

'And what about your children?"

"Unfortunately, twelve years in Azkaban has rendered me incapable in that department." Sirius replied with distaste. The Bones family, being matriarchically based, already has its heiress, Susan. So that just leaves me and Amelia. I can safely say that the load of galleons that I have my personal vault, my business ventures, plus Amelia's own earnings, are much more than what is required for a lavish lifestyle."

Harry nodded in silence.

"Today in the party, I am going to announce my engagement to Amelia, and soon later, I shall announce you as the heir and future Lord of Black, after my death that is. Do not worry, I have personally seen to it that no outstanding contracts exist for the Lordship of Black."

Harry could not stop himself from sighing in satisfaction.

"I would also like to visit your parent's graves. I haven't ever been there, and I did not believe I could face their graves alone. Would you mind accompanying an old man?"

Harry looked up at his godfather's face. Though wizards usually lived to greater ages than muggles, Sirius at that moment, looked really old, despite being hardly thirty-five. Azkaban had really done a number on him.

"I will... Padfoot. And sure, go ahead and announce it. I promise to lead your family well."

"Thank you... Prongslet." Sirius hugged his godson.

"Now come, the party is on, and your girlfriend must be waiting for you."

* * *

Harry complied as he followed his godfather into the ball room. The house was completely different on the inside. Had it not been for the dreary frontage, Harry could easily confuse this with Malfoy Manor, just a little more practical and a little less grand. The colors were quite neutral and gave off a serene feel. Harry could hear the laughs coming out of the hall, and was surprised to see a lot many familiar faces.

He could spot Susan and Hannah busy chattering away with a ponytailed girl he did not know. He saw Blaise and Theo each holding a glass of butterbeer and busy conversing with Antony Goldstein. He saw Augusta LongBottom engaged in what appeared to be a fanciful conversation with a group of people, that mostly seemed unfamiliar to him.

"Harry!" Neville's voice reverberated from his left. Turning to him, he saw his friend, god brother he reminded himself, walking towards him. After a brief hug, Neville asked him congenially. "You look different Harry; I could not recognize you at the first glance."

Harry grinned back at him, as he exchanged small talk. Susan and Hannah too approached the duo as they fell into piece of what seemed like a rather fanciful conversation.

"So where is your dear Daphne?" Susan teased.

"With her parents. That reminds me, I am supposed to find her, please excuse me."

* * *

And then he found her. Standing in that ethereal blue gown with her raven black luxurious hair falling down on both fronts, she looked completely divine. For a moment, Harry wondered how he got so lucky to be betrothed to such an elegant beauty.

Harry strode silently, approaching her as she stood conversing with Tracy. Putting his hand on her waist, he silently kissed her. She responded with equal vigor.

"Hey! Hey! Lovebirds, stop creating a scene." Tracy teased.

"Why? Getting jealous Theresa?"

"I told you not to call me that, "Tracy admonished Harry with a non-serious expression.

"Excuse me Ladies and gentle-wizards!" came his godfather's voice above the bustling crowd. Sirius was standing on top of a rather elevated stage. "This party, though called initially to celebrate my ascension to the Black Lordship, actually has a couple of reasons which I sneakily avoided mentioning so far."

"As you well know, the last twelve years of my life were taken away by a miscarriage of justice, and I lost the happiness that I could have acquired in these past years. However, now that I am back, I do not want to deliberately wait any more. As such, with great pleasure, I want to announce my engagement", a great many whispers flooded through the crowd, "to the very stern and sexy witch whom I have had craved all my teenage life. Yes, ladies and gentle-wizards, I am very happy to announce my engagement to," he pulled a surprised and blushing Amelia Bones from the crowd in front, "Miss Amelia Bones."

The reaction of the crowd was overwhelming. Some were surprised, others shocked, and the rest were engaged in a blurry of conversations, and yet there were some ladies who were disappointed that the charming Lord Black was no longer a bachelor.

After the applause had ended, Sirius took up the stage again and announced. "and now, the second announcement, I announce Harry James Potter, my godson and Dorea Black's grandson, as the heir and future Lord of House Black."

Pandemonium reigned.

* * *

After what seemed like the nth time that Harry was congratulated heartily at his new ascension, Harry got to have some private time with his friends. But he also knew that it was in such parties that he would truly get to have a political feel of the world around him. Salazar had drilled into him the importance of being socially active, and Harry would be damned if he were let first foray into the wizarding society go down the drain.

He sneaked across the entire room, taking in a quick impression of the situation. There were over a score different families, not including certain ministry officials and reporters. He reminded himself that as Lord Potter and of course, Lord Slytherin, and not to forget, the Black heir, he had a responsibility to handle as well as an opportunity to use. This was not a moment to shun away in solitude.

"So Harry did you really drive away a hundred Dementors the last term? My sister would not just shut up about it." Came the jovial voice of Andrew Davis, Tracy's elder brother and the heir of the family.

"I am not sure Harry feels comfortable talking about it." Neville defended him, knowing very well, how Harry tried to escape his fame.

"No its okay, Neville." Harry held his friend back, "I don't mind." Turning to face the elder boy, he nodded in acceptance.

"No offence but Harry, I find that quite difficult to believe. I am a junior Auror and even I can't get more than the shield on most occasions. So forgive me if I find the news of a thirteen-year-old casting a corporeal Patronus, a bit far-fetched." Andrew countered.

 _Very well._

Harry looked at the young population in front of him. Raising his wand to the left, he whispered, "Expecto Patronum."

A bright, silver wolf burst out of his wand instantly. The ethereal animal was larger than the one he had conjured during his fight with the Dementors. Harry knew that the populous needed a strong icon to follow, and if necessary, he would give them the strong leader.

"WOW!" A huge flurry of whispers prevailed into the hall, as the families and the reporters alike saw the open display of power from the boy-who-lived. Given the way the reporters were in a frenzy, Harry briefly wondered if the next day's Prophet would be about him.

"This is... this is solid Potter." Andrew drew a blank in awe.

"Was what we heard, happened in second year, also the truth Potter?" another girl, whom Harry was not familiar with, shouted out to him.

"I am not sure what you heard miss..."

"Cuthbert. Amaryllis Cuthbert."

Harry smiled.

"We heard that you killed a basilisk in the Chamber of secrets, and rescued the Weasley girl."

Harry nodded. "I did."

"unbelievable!"

"Cool!"

"You are my hero!"

"how big was the basilisk, Potter?"

"Around a hundred feet."

An unsure silence hung in his surroundings.

"Bloody hell."

* * *

"Harry! Come with me, I want you to meet a couple of people. "Sirius led him to another group of people. Harry knew that Sirius was simply using him as a distraction, and he happily complied. It was the least he could do for the man who loved him like a son.

"Harry, meet Minister Cornelius Fudge. Minister, meet my godson and heir, Harry Potter."

"Nice meeting you again, Harry! I believe this is the second time we are meeting. My my, you look so grown up already."

"thank you minister. You look very well too."

"Call me Cornelius, you should come around the Ministry sometime. After all, you will be soon taking some very important seats in the Wizengamot very soon, Harry." Cornelius advised.

 _Not a bad idea._

"Ah Andy! Finally, you are here. Harry, meet my cousin Andromeda. Andy, this is Harry, you remember him?" Sirius introduced them.

"you were a wee little baby when I last met you harry. Now though you have grown so much, I imagine girls must be falling over to get a date with you." Andromeda teased.

Harry couldn't help but grin, as she continued, "Now you must meet my husband Ted, he must be somewhere, oh and this is our sweet daughter Nymphadora!"

"MUM!" a rather familiar but indignant voice resounded out. "You know better than to call me that."

Harry turned round to see the source of the familiar voice, only to be surprised to find the pink locks of the familiar young lady he had, vividly wiped the floor with, a few days ago.

"YOU!" both Harry and Tonks shouted out at the same time.

* * *

"My dear daughter, you didn't tell me you were previously acquainted with the Boy-who-lived?" Andromeda commented, rather saucily.

"Well I met him at the ministry a week ago. He err-" She searched for words how to explain the situation. Being a part of the invigilation for OWL testing was confidential and she wondered how she could avoid that part. Finally, she gathered her words and replied. "Let's just say I met him at the ministry and we had a fun duel."

"yeah she is correct!" Harry egged her on, rather too quick for his liking.

Sirius looked from one side to the other, following the banter. "Harry, what were you doing at the ministry?"

"I ah... I had some important work!"

"I thought you were underage." Sirius countered.

"I am emancipated and a Lord." Harry refuted back.

"But you haven't got your NEWTS yet. So, still underage." Sirius countered back snidely.

"OKAY!" Harry yelled out. "Let's just keep it silent for now, all right? You will get to know soon enough what I was doing there."

Ted Tonks, who was quite enjoying the banter, standing at a side, realized the expression on his daughter's face. If Nymphadora was trying to avoid speaking about something, either it was something highly embarrassing or it must be covered under her employment oath. He sincerely _hoped_ it was the latter.

"So," Sirius perked up, "about this duel, who won it?" He remarked, glancing at Harry and Nymphadora one after another.

"I did." Harry said with a smug grin, "blasted her away."

"And I landed on my arse." Nymphadora muttered in embarrassment.

"You mean to say that my godson soundly defeated an Auror Cadet?" Sirius perked up.

"Junior Auror!" she embittered.

"All the better!" Sirius proclaimed smugly.

"I might have... taken him a bit too lightly." Nymphadora replied, now completely flushed, "But," her eyes now right at Harry, "we will have a rematch. I need to kick your butt and hex you to next week and back, for embarrassing me like that."

"Deal."

* * *

"Am I supposed to be jealous at how cozy you were appearing to be, with that Auror girl?" Daphne whispered in her betrothed's ear.

Harry turned around, placing his hand on her waist as he whispered back, "I don't think so. You are the only woman for me."

Daphne blushed.

"ah! And there is the cute little red I was looking for."

"stop embarrassing me!" Daphne complained good naturedly.

Harry smiled.

"So where is the rest of the gang?"

* * *

After a rather festive celebration, the very successful party came to an end. Blaise, Theo and Tracy had taken their leave, as had most of the parents. Only Daphne, Neville and Susan remained behind. Daphne's parents had taken their leave and so had Neville's grandmother. Susan's aunt was busy with Sirius, busy with something only-they-knew-what, and Harry decided to stay out of it, he was too young for that, he thought to himself, smirking.

"so I guess you are my half-brother now, in a way." Susan began.

"Actually, Cousin would be more precise."

"Daphne and I are sort of cousins, in a way." Neville began. The boy had really changed a lot. He was no longer the shy pudgy boy who fainted at every excitement. Especially since Harry had spoken to his grandmother at the station, last Christmas, his grandmother had been asking a lot about him. In one of their conversations, Neville had told her how Harry thought that his father's wand was perhaps, not an exact match for him; 'the wand chooses the wizard' thing and so on. Augusta had taken her time to think upon that, but the next day, she had accompanied him to Ollivander's to get him a new wand. Cherry and Unicorn hair. It was a perfect blend of his parent's wands. His dad had a cherry with dragon heartstring while his mother's had been an ebony with unicorn hair. Augusta was gently chastised by the sneaky old man about not visiting with Neville in his first year, all the while subtly selling the idea that Neville was not his father, he was a blend of his father _and_ his mother. Neville had never seen his grandmother so emotional. He had been swiftly taken to Gringotts the very next day, and Augusta had performed the heir ritual and proclaimed him as the official heir of LongBottom. All that remained now was to proclaim the alliance with House Potter to be back, and the old LongBottom-Potter alliance would be back again.

"really?" Harry's eyes perked, in interest.

"My grand-aunt married into their family. Celeste LongBottom, she is Daphne's grandmother. That makes us cousins."

Daphne bobbed her head in approval.

"Well Neville and I are god-brothers, although I was ignorant of that before the previous Christmas. And I am sorry Neville, I did not know about your parents." Harry finished.

"Well, if it's any worth, I am sorry about Uncle James and Aunt Lily too. You know my grandmother told me that we used to play in the same crib when we were tiny."

"Oh!" Harry did not know what to say.

"And everyone knows about the Potter-LongBottom Alliance. It will be back to its former glory soon, I hope." Neville gave Harry a nudge.

 _The Potter-LongBottom Alliance?_

"I swear no matter how much I study into the details of my heritage, there is always some minutia that I overlook." Harry complained.

"No worries brother." Neville said out, hesitating inwards at addressing Harry as his brother.

"Thanks." Harry gave him a smile, telling him it was acknowledged and appreciated.

"You know, when we are of age, we should be a powerful block on our own." Susan chirped.

"Greengrass-Potter-Slytherin-Black-Bones-LongBottom", Daphne began in a single breath, "add in a couple of vassals and we shall be the most powerful bloc in the Wizengamot, "although I guess Harry will have to manage a lot of Houses on his own." she ended, with a slightly disappointed smile. She knew that only Lords would sit in the Wizengamot. Although the magical world did not have any gender bias, but the Wizengamot was fundamentally, a man's court. Very few women ever held their place there. Some of the few who actually had a place, were really formidable Ladies like the LongBottom Regent and Madam Bones. She lightly wondered if she could ever have a place there.

Harry knew what she was thinking. Daphne had always mirrored her father, and had a look of awe whenever she sat among him and her dad, during their Wizengamot conversations.

"Actually, what Daphne meant is that I will be very busy managing the House Businesses and hence, _she_ will be taking my place on the Wizengamot, more often than not." He purposely avoided looking at Daphne, while he completed the entire line keeping a straight face.

Daphne's face altered between surprise, shock and affection as she looked at her betrothed. He was determined to not look at her, it seemed. It was one of the things that attracted her so much to him. He would do these tiny things for her, know her deepest desires and often fulfill them, while never so much as a smug face. She softly held his hand and gave it a slight squeeze. Harry squeezed in return, acknowledging her feelings.

* * *

 **###Another normal chapter. I know my portrayal of Sirius Black was rather different. I guess after reading through the two major stereotypes, the first being how Sirius is kind of an overgrown child (in canon and in fanfics) and a proper high and mighty Lord Black (in some of the more amazing fanfics), I decided to go for the third kind. Let's just 12 years in Azkaban can have more effects to a person than the above two alternatives. Hope you readers like it. Although I am open to further suggestions.**

 **###Next chapter, Voldemort enters the scene! Reviews, everyone!**


	51. ROTS 07: Graveyards and wraiths

The next morning, Harry and his friends were sitting in the main hall, serving themselves to a light breakfast of bread, sauce and some juice. Daphne and Susan had taken a room for their own, while Harry and Neville had taken the one to their left. While Daphne would be extremely glad to stay the night with Harry, they hadn't complained and settled on the original plan. It was perhaps for the better, and if she were honest with herself, a little less tempting, in ways more than one.

Harry and asked Dobby to come to Black manor, to help with the kitchen work. Kreacher, for all standards, was almost barmy and Sirius was thinking of retiring him very soon. He had even written to the organization that sold elves for hire. The new elf should be arriving any day.

Their breakfast conversation was disturbed by the hoot of a large brown owl, Sirius's, Harry presumed, which dropped a bundle of the day's newspaper over the floor. Picking it up, Susan handed out the other sheet to Sirius while taking one for her own.

"HOLY SHIT HARRY! The first page is all about you!"

"WHAT?"

Harry held out his own sample of the paper out on his table while Daphne and Neville nearly jumped up towards Susan as she stood on the edge of the table, spreading the prophet out. Bold Headings covered the front page.

 **BOY-WHO-LIVED DEMONSTRATES HIS MAGICAL PROWESS IN PUBLIC!**

 _Fuck._

This was not really what he expected. To be honest, he knew that showing off the Patronus would attract attention, but he did not expect the attention to be worth the front page.

 _But I can still use this to my advantage._

He continued to read the rest of the paper.

 **The previous night at Sirius Black's party at Black Manor, an outstanding revelation occurred before us. Sirius Black, whom women remember with fondness as a ladies' man, is going to tie to knot with none other than our own Head of the DMLE, Madam Amelia Bones. Yes, dear readers, Sirius Black is now off the charts! The ladies' man formally announced his engagement to Madam Bones last night during the party. And furthermore, he announced Harry James Potter as his heir and future Lord of Black. As you all know, the Ancient and Noble House of Black is one of the most powerful families on the Wizengamot. With this announcement, Harry James Potter, aged 14, the boy-who-lived is going to be the richest, if not the most powerful person on the Wizengamot when he comes of age. Our sources tell us that Harry Potter has already been emancipated and has taken the mantle of Lord Potter up. Yes, readers, after fifteen years since the death of Charlus Potter, there has been another Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Together with the Black Lordship, and for people who remember the formidable Potter-LongBottom alliance, we are surely looking up at the ascension of another great bloc on the Wizengamot. Whether this new bloc will have any significant effect on the Wizengamot policies, we need to wait and watch.**

"Well she does know what she is talking about." Neville commented.

 **The boy-who-lived was spotted with his love interest, Miss Daphne Greengrass of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass and engaged with the lovely Bones heir, Susan Bones. Does this mean the birth of the new political coalition? Only time will tell.**

 **Our sources talk about the aspiring romances between the young teens. For details, visit page 3.**

Neville and Susan looked at each other and blushed.

 **But was this enough for the Boy-who-lived? No dear readers, the newly coined Black heir, Lord Harry James Potter performed an exemplary exhibition of his magical prowess. The young Lord simply held out his wand and performed a full blown corporeal Patronus, a shining silver wolf at what appeared to our sources. Yes, you are reading it correctly, the young fourteen-year-old, demonstrated surprising magical strength by casting the Patronus. For those who are unaware, the Patronus is one of the most difficult spells that can ward off Dementors and Lethifolds. Even most Aurors fail to cast the corporeal form, and yet the boy-who-lived demonstrated the same spell with effortless ease. One wonders what other powers the young Lord might be hiding.**

"Well you did cast a Patronus in public of all places." Sirius nudged. Harry shrugged and went back to reading it.

 **This also lends some thought to some of the rumors surrounding the young Potter during his initial years at Hogwarts. His defeating of Professor Quirrel, his altercation with a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, and his battle with the Dementors.**

 **To know about the details about what people think of what happened, visit page 2.**

Harry closed the paper. This was significant. He would now be noticed, by good and bad. While it would grant him the public eye, he would also come under the watch of the powerful, who would now keep a check on him. He needed to get more powerful, and for Magic's sake, he would do it.

 _Nidhogg?_

 _"_ _More rituals, I have something and a few tricks in mind."_

 _Nice._

Harry smiled.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew hated mundane transport. They were so noisy, and full of people who were noisier than the transporting vehicle they were in. After a few weeks of compulsion charms and obliviations and summoning charms, and a huge mess of his attire, he had finally reached his destination.

Albania.

"This better be worth it Severus, else you wouldn't know what hit you." He whispered silently to himself.

The great forest of Albania. The place where the wraith of the Dark Lord was possibly resting. The place where that bumbling fool of a professor had visited a couple of years ago on his sabbatical, and had willingly become host for his Lord's wraith. Peter wondered to himself how desperate his lord might have been to jump at whatever fool came on his way. Either the past years had been quite ..." Peter wondered for a proper word. What could possibly be abhorrent to a wraith? He would have thought that living on for years as a wraith would be abhorrent on its own accord. He wondered what his Lord might have encountered.

Quirrel had been to the forests to learn from the tribes about handling dangerous creatures. Severus had told him. Perhaps there could be a village or some sort. The dark lord was his only solace. He had already spent a decade as a rat. He did not want to spend his entire life being one. And now, he was also a fugitive.

 _Damn that blasted brat!_

He would have to keep looking.

* * *

Harry appeared along with Sirius to the outskirts of what appeared to be a magical village. There were a couple of settlements, houses with smoke blowing out of the chimneys, the land, covered with a slight sliver of snow. Must be some part of northern Scotland, he thought.

 _So this is Godric's Hollow._

The birthplace of Godric Gryffindor, the home of to a lot of magical families who wanted to avoid the crowds of London and wanted to have a peaceful life. The wards surrounding the village were fairly old and almost undisturbed. Harry wondered if the village was kind of like the old-age dwellings that he heard his aunt talk about.

"come with me, Harry" Sirius called out as the pair walked towards south-west. There was a muddy track that led all the way. There were several shops, a post office, a pub, and a little church whose stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-bright across the square. The snow here had become impacted: It was hard and slippery where people had trodden on it all day. Villagers were crisscrossing in front of them. They heard a snatch of laughter and pop music as the pub door opened and closed; then they heard a prayer start up inside the little church.

"Harry, look!"

Sirius was pointing at the war memorial. As they had passed it, it had transformed. Instead of an obelisk covered in names, there was a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. Snow lay upon all their heads, like fluffy white caps. Harry drew closer, gazing up into his parents' faces. He had never imagined that there would be a statue. How strange it was to see himself represented in stone, a happy baby without a scar on his forehead.

"C'mon," said Harry, when he had looked his fill, and they turned again toward the church. As they crossed the road, he glanced over his shoulder; the statue had turned back into the war memorial.

"I can't believe that the place where you once played with your parents is now reduced to such..." Sirius began.

'It's okay, Padfoot."

They walked opposite the memorial, behind the church, where Harry could see row upon row of snowy tombstones. This was the graveyard where his parents were buried, he mused. He noticed the small sign board in front of him.

 **This is the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, one of the most celebrated of half-magical dwelling places, the village where the great wizard Godric Gryffindor was born, and where Bowman Wright, Wizarding smith, forged the first Golden Snitch. This graveyard is full of the names of ancient magical families, and this accounts, no doubt, for the stories of hauntings that have dogged the little church beside it for many centuries.**

Harry entered the graveyard with his godfather, moving from tomb to tomb. He could see tombs of many families he personally knew, there was an Abbot in the previous row, and a Bones a couple pf tombs past. He silently wondered what his life would be like if he had grown up here, with his parents.

"Look here, Harry! There is a Dumbledore over here." Sirius exclaimed.

Harry perked up at the mention. He did not know Dumbledore had any family. The man was old by any standard, and was likely a lifelong bachelor.

Harry stooped down and saw, upon the frozen, lichen-spotted granite, the words _Kendra Dumbledore_ and, a short way below her dates of birth and death, and _Her Daughter Ariana_. There was also a quotation:

 **Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.**

"Harry! I think this is an ancestor of yours. James often mentioned about this. Come here."

The grave was extremely old, weathered so that Harry could hardly make out the name. Sirius showed him the symbol beneath it.

"it's a strange symbol."

And it was. A thin triangle, with a line dividing it from the middle and a circle circumscribing it from within. An odd diagram but Harry had seen it before. He knew the symbol. It was on the vault door of the Peverell vault.

"Ignotus Peverell." Sirius read aloud.

"Harry!" Sirius cried out in a soft chocked voice, "they are...here."

And they were. Two tombstones, James and Lily Potter. Beneath their dates were the words inscribed.

 **The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.**

It sounded like a strange epithet. Destroying death? Seemed like something Voldemort would write on his epithet, although knowing Tom Riddle, writing his own epithet would perhaps be the last thing one might accuse him of doing.

"it's a strange epithet. Who etched it?"

"Dumbledore, I think."

Harry nodded. Dumbledore always did the oddest things.

Sirius knelt down on the ground, in front of the graves. With a croaky voice, he whispered out. "James, Lily, I am sorry. I failed you."

Harry put his hand on his godfather's shoulder, trying to give him some moral support.

"I failed to take care of Harry. I let that rat get the better of me and your son had to live through a harsh childhood. I failed you Prongs, Lily. For what it is worth, I am sorry." Sirius bent down before the grave, as he cried on it.

"Sirius!"

"I am all right Prongslet. Just...give me a moment." He got up and brushed the snow off his robes.

"If you want a moment alone with your parents, I understand."

Harry nodded in gratitude. He knelt down, waving his hand to conjure a bouquet of flowers over the graves of his parents. His father, who had given his life to protect him and his mother. His mother, who had bargained her life for exchange of her son. His parents, who had done everything to see that he survived.

He would not let their sacrifices go in vain.

"Mum! Dad!" he whispered, his eyes close to tears. "I am happy, and I am thankful to you for what you did for me, and let me live. It wasn't great but at least I lived, thanks to you." He looked upon his Dad's grave, "I am using the cloak for my benefit, you would be proud of your son for his marauding activities," he chuckled, "I am fourteen and already an animagus. I broke your record. They say in school that I am as good as you were on a broom. I am the seeker for Gryffindor and now Lord Potter. I just hope you would be proud of me."

He shifted his eyes towards his mother's grave. "Mum, I have reactivated your old family magicks. I am Lord Slytherin and Lord..." he hesitated, "Lord Eveningshade. I am a magical animagus and McGonagall says you would be proud of me."

Harry shifted his legs for a moment. "I wish you were alive and with me. I saw you both in the mirror, and when the Dementors attack me. I know you loved me and that is all I want. _I swear to you on my life and magic that the abomination that shattered our family will meet his death by my hand_."

The air around him shifted, as his magical vow took place.

Harry stood up, wiping his tears.

"I shall return again. It is a promise."

* * *

Peter had been diligently searching for any signals that could let him know that the tribal village was near. He wondered, not for the first time, anbout the worthiness of his mission. He was just barely out of his thoughts when his animagus senses went into frenzy, sensing danger. He sharply bent down on his knees, narrowly missing a rather sharpened arrow that would have otherwise taken his head off.

At least he had gotten the tribes.

* * *

Amun was the chieftain of his tribe, and for what it was worth, he hated foreigners with a passion. His tribe had lived in the sanctity of the great forest without any troubles over decades, when that abomination had entered into their peaceful world. That wraith, he often wondered how that wraith could be so powerful, had burnt villages and possessed his men and children, extracted their magic, did his bidding and caused mayhem. The destruction had lasted for months, until one day, the ancients of his village had performed a ritual to contain the wraith inside a cave.

Then, that fool of an Englishman had come along.

He had arrived, wishing to learn how to handle dangerous creatures efficiently. He claimed to some sort of teacher where he lived, not that Amun believed him or anything. The man had been directly refused on the face and Amun had hoped that it would be the last time he would see the man.

He could not be more wrong.

The man had heard about the wraith, from some of the loud mouths in his tribe, and in his stupidity, gone over to investigate it; perhaps in an attempt to display his valor. The wraith had possessed him and left with him, but no before causing a death toll on his tribe.

After almost two years of him being gone for good, the wraith had returned, more powerful than ever. The wraith now dwelt in the confines of the cave, perhaps waiting for something. Every now and then, one of his people would vanish away.

Hence, Amun hated foreigners with a passion.

And now, there was one more of them.

* * *

"WHAT do you want, foreigner?" Amun yelled, raising his bow again.

"I heard from a friend that you have a wraith, troubling your lands. I can help you with them."

Not again.

"and why do you think you can do that?" Amun pressed.

Peter gulped. "It was I that freed the Englishman that wraith possessed. I know how to destroy him for good."

Amun narrowed his eyes. "I hope what you say is the truth foreigner. Else you would only wish the wraith killed you."

Peter, already coming back into his sly confident form, smiled back. "agreed."

* * *

 **### How is it going do far? Please read and review! Reviews work wonders for my muse.**


	52. ROTS 08: Travelling

"Harry, I don't think I am feeling good enough to visit the cottage. I understand if you want to visit it. I shall simply wait here for you." Sirius spoke out, a tiredness in his voice.

"No it is okay, I can come another day. Besides, I can simply apparate here whenever I want, now that I know where it is." Harry replied.

"You can apparate? "Sirius asked wondrously, "and that too, so young?"

"I have a couple of tricks hidden in my sleeve, Sirius. You don't know quite a lot about me." Harry replied, only to curse himself for not thinking before speaking. Sirius's expression, was downtrodden.

"I know Harry, I missed out a lot of years of your childhood. And now that I am back, you are already grown up. I missed my chance of corrupting you, Lily would be so smug." Sirius reminisced.

"It's all right Sirius. We can get to know each other."

"So tell me about yourself, my young mini marauder."

Harry smirked.

"Well you do know that I am Lord Slytherin." Sirius nodded, "and I turned into my animagus form for the first time when you intervened between me and Moony." Harry laughed. Sirius suddenly looked gobsmacked for a moment, and then almost yelled out, "Bloody hell pup, I almosy forgot you are an animagus, and that too a wolf."

"Dire wolf" Harry corrected.

"Yes that, seems like Moony finally won the bet. I will have to pay the old wolf five hundred galleons."

"What bet?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well there was this running bet about your animagus form. James said that you would be some form of stag or perhaps a lion, I had voted for a dog while Remus for a wolf. Seems like the old man won."

Harry grinned. "You were betting on my form when I was an year old?" He asked with amusement.

"Oh that was nothing. You should have seen the proud look on your father's eyes when you summoned him from the other room. He was the proudest father on the planet that day. Floo called everyone to let know just how powerful his baby son was. It was then that we decided to-"

Sirius blanched for a moment, and turned to Harry, "You did have a healing ritual done before taking your Lordships right?"

"Yes."

 _Well, not a complete lie. The Cleansing ritual was a kind of healing ritual, after all._

"Did you get to break your magical bindings?"

"I did. There were two."

"Two?" Sirius was gob smacked. "We put only one. It was supposed to be broken when you would be seven or eight years of age."

"Dumbledore put the other on me. He did that to prevent..." Harry hesitated before continuing, "he did that to prevent the effects of this scar from affecting my magic."

"And now it is gone?" Sirius questioned, his eyes narrowed.

"The bindings yes; the dark magic of the scar, no. The goblins could not do anything about it."

"Did Dumbledore mention anything about it to you?"

"We have talked..." Harry said dryly, "but not in details. Yet."

Sirius nodded. "Remus told me about your flying prowess. Told me you fly better than James did."

"You think so?" Harry asked, his eyes widening.

"Well Remus was the smartest one in the group. If he says so, must be right. Ready to leave?"

Harry nodded.

Sirius smirked. "Think you can apparate little old me to Black Manor?"

Harry smirked, rising up to the challenge.

He held out his hand, and Sirius held it tightly. With a soft pop, they apparated away.

* * *

"I swear this is one of my worst ideas!" Peter grumbled to himself as he scurried down the narrow opening of the cave. It was completely dark, and had he not had his wand with him, there was no way he would enter the cave. Wraith or no wraith.

He felt a cold wind blow and send a shiver down his spine. His rat instincts working overdrive, he bent down quickly as a cold wind blew above him. It was a wraith, the face blurry because of the motion. "My Lord?" he cried.

The wraith stopped midway, peering down at the pudgy human in front of him. "Who are you?"

"Peter, my Lord. Peter Pettigrew. Your faithful servant."

The wraith seemed to get angrier with his proclamation. It forced its way through the rocks, breaking them into pieces. "Don't lie to me! Had you been faithful, I would not have to survive in this form for so many years."

"I was in hiding my lord. As a rat, for the last decade."

The wraith seemed to ponder at the information. "Wormtail!"

Peter bobbed his head. This seemed a good sign.

"Where are the others Wormtail? Do they not care for their Lord? Do they not know how terrible my wrath is?"

"Some of them are in Azkaban my lord. And a few others out there, are busy collecting their own profits in your absence."

"TRAITORS! TRAITORS ALL OF THEM!" the wraith stopped moving and floated to a standstill.

"I have come to seek your return. My lord. The Potter boy-"

"Yes. Potter. He somehow overpowered me. Quirrel could not touch him. I don't remember everything correctly. My mind...fuzzy..."

"My lord... can I help you with anything?"

"Fetch me... an animal. A snake... if possible...I can possess... it. We can... travel..." the wraith uttered out some more, but Peter could not make heads or tails of it. He shook his head and went out of the cave. His first job. Fetch a snake.

Definitely not one of his better ideas.

* * *

Harry appeared on the gates of the Black Manor with his godfather in tow. Stepping away from his godson, he shook his head. "Damn pup, you are good. Apparation at fourteen, and nearly silent too. "He waggled his eyebrows, "What other powers have you been hiding eh?" repeating the last line from the Prophet article.

"Oh you know me! A couple of more stuffs." Harry smirked.

Opening the door, the duo went inside the hall. Daphne and Neville were busy playing a game of wizarding chess, she looked just like her mother, Harry observed. A single lock of hair fell off in front of her eyes. Harry subconsciously walked up to her and tucked it behind her hair. Daphne looked up to him and smiled. "Harry!"

"Hey mate! You are back! How was the journey?" Neville asked. Harry mused that Susan might be somewhere with her aunt.

"It was... good. Kind of enlightening." Harry commented. "So what's the lead with the game?"

"Daphne's winning. So far. That is."

 _That's my girl._

"Well Neville, I suggest you up your game then. I have heard that Susan is as good as her, and unless you want to keep losing all your life from her at chess," Neville blushed at Harry's subtle implication, "I would recommend you up your playing style."

He went overboard and sat on his betrothed's side. His hands automatically finding their place on her waist as she melted into his body, her head resting slightly on your shoulders."

"You know, you are just as romantic as your dad was," came the slightly toned voice of the elder Bones.

"I smell a story, Amelia." Sirius intervened, his eyebrows waggling madly.

"Well, all you needed was to just sit beside Lily after one of her dates with your father. She would be melting away in reminiscence, similar to your betrothed." Amelia smirked pointedly.

Daphne blushed.

"Tell you some sound advice Harry, always allow your partner to be comfortable with you." Amelia sniggered.

"Well, Happy wife! Happy life!" Sirius exclaimed as his arms snaked around Amelia's waist from behind her.

Harry simply smiled, still holding Daphne tightly.

* * *

Peter had somehow managed to overpower a rather dangerous adder from the outskirts of the cave, and the dark lord had possessed it quite efficiently, he may add. Peter had been apparating in tandem all the way since then. Whenever he would get tired, he would simply sit and wait for some moments, manage to procure some food for them and milk for the snake; after all the dark lord had to be fed in this form.

After a two-day worth of travel, they had finally reached the village of Little Hangleton. Why his lord would choose a muggle village in the entirety of Britain, Peter could not fathom. He mused it was one of the many ... quirks of being powerful. He was completely shocked to find that his lord owned muggle property there. Now that was surprising. Perhaps his lord wasn't so pure of blood as he had claimed after all. Not that Peter would voice his suspicions. He was a Gryffindor at school, sure, but there was a difference between bravery and stupidity. Nah! Self-preservation was far better than both.

Reaching the dilapidated old manor, the Riddle Manor as the nameplate claimed, his lord had finally released the snake from his possession. Peter was not amused when his lord claimed the snake to be his new familiar, and that Peter, like the faithful servant he was, would have to feed Nagini, the snake just had he had been doing. Some point about Peter being good at such menial jobs or something, Peter could not fathom why.

"Find me a child. One that is less than two years old, but not less than a year of age."

Dark lords and the crazy quirks. Peter wondered if that was written on the Death eater manifesto, or was it something that his Lord had introduced newly. Grumbling to himself about insanity, recklessness and damned Severus, he went off for his latest hunt.

* * *

Harry had visited Daphne's family once more when he came to drop her back at her family manor. After spending the day there, he went back to Potter Manor, hoping that Dobby had everything ready and packed. He was supposed to be meeting with his charms Professor the next day morning at the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped that Dobby had checked and rechecked about the condition of the Potter cottage in Paris.

 _Nidhogg?_

 _"_ _Yes."_

 _You sure I should avoid using fire attacks in the duel? They could give me a nice edge._

 _"_ _Completely sure. I wonder why you are so worried. They are just a bunch of nineteen year olds. You are an elemental. Don't use fire, but you can use Chaotic energy to perform wandless spells."_

 _Not a bad idea._

 _"_ _What would you do without me?"_

 _Not speak with someone in my mind?_

 _"_ _Arse."_

 _Same to you._

The next morning, Harry got everything ready and packed up in his new multi-apartment trunk. Magic knew he was almost running through a lot of them. He already had his grandfather's trunk, his moke skin pouch, but he just had to, just had to buy the new trunk that he had seen on display. The new seven apartment trunk that came with much more amazing features. Although it cost him a bloody lot, harry still felt it was worth it. After all, he had all the gold lying in his vaults. If he had money, he might as well spend some of it.

Harry met with Flitwick outside the leaky Cauldron as they had decided previously. He had procured a nice little portkey to his cottage and no sooner had they touched the portkey and uttered the password, there was a flash of blue as they were portkeyed away.

Appearing with a crack, Harry stood his ground. Flitwick looked at him with suspicion as he remarked. "You seem awfully stable for someone who has just portkeyed for the first time."

Harry winked at his charms professor, "Ask me no questions, hear no lies."

Flitwick raised his eyebrows.

"It's a muggle proverb professor. Just thought of quoting it." Harry grinned.

Flitwick smirked, this was certainly James Potter's son.

"So where is this elf of yours?"

Harry nodded and called out, "Dobby?"

There was a soft pop as the elf appeared. "yes, master."

"Please take our luggage inside and settle everything."

Dobby bobbed his head twice and popped away.

"So Harry! Ever been to the 'La Ville magicus' in Paris?

"The magical village?" Harry translated.

Flitwick sent a pointed look at his protégé, not knowing previously about his skill at French.

Harry smirked. "No Professor."

"Let's get you a tour of it, then." Holding his protégé's hands, the half-goblin professor apparated.

* * *

 **### a short chapter I know. But I had to finish the part here before I properly begin with the tournament. Read and review!**


	53. ROTS 09: Fleur Delacour

Fleur Delacour was annoyed. Sure, her father Sebastian Delacour was the head of the French DMLE, sure her father was very popular and seen as the next minister to the magical government of France, sure he was married to a Veela and had had two daughters, both being Veela by the way, and sure the French government was kind of, biased towards magical creatures, in which Veela seemed to be placed. But that did not justify why she was not being allowed to participate the oncoming international dueling tournament, especially when it was being held in France.

Yes, Fleur was very annoyed.

She strode across the room, her blue eyes now reduced to slits of fury, and while anyone else would have compared her movements with that of a predator hunting for her prey, she had no such intentions. After all, her parents were busy conversing right behind that door. All she wanted to do was walked right straight and open it and—

"Fleur."

Fleur darted back instantly, recognizing the voice of her best friend and solace, Caroline Beaufort. Both of them had just passed out their sixth year at Beauxbatons, waiting their results and of course, their final year at Beauxbatons, the most prestigious school of magic in France and one of the most reputed institutions in entire Europe and beyond.

"Fleur, my parents have come to meet yours. I managed to convince them somehow, and they are here to manage your parents in return."

Fleur's eyes skyrocketed towards her best friend in astonishment as her fury vanished off in an instant. She leaped with the agility of a rather bountiful wild cat and hugged her best friend tightly. "Thankkkk you Caro! You have no idea how much zis means to me!"

Caroline smirked. She knew her friend's accent would suffer when she was tensed. It was just the way it was with Fleur.

"I am sure it means a lot to you but please don't suffocate me in return." Caroline squeaked, unable to breathe under the pressure of her best friend's hug.

"oh!" Fleur let her off, "Sorry Caro. I guess I got a bit excited." She said, blushing.

"Sure." Her friend replied back saucily.

"oh hush you!" she admonished, "Where are your parentz?"

"Talking to yours next door."

Fleur glanced back at the closed door once again. It was still closed.

"Give them time." Caroline advised. Fleur nodded her head in despair.

"Fleur?" a strong voice that belonged to her dad, resounded through the room.

Fleur turned towards her father, peering at him, while at the same time, trying to not look at him.

"You know Fleur, I am very hurt that you shouted at us." He began. Fleur felt her hopes vanish away in a second. She was going to be grounded, for the entire summer perhaps.

"And then you had your friend to try to convince us rather sneakily-". Fleur nodded her head. This was the worst summer.

"And we talked with Caro's parents and finally we agreed.". Fleur shook her head, as if wishing for her dreaded thoughts to vanish away. Her father would surely ground her, and she would be prevented from the tournament in school too. She would not be a part of the Triwizard while all her friends would go and-

WHAT?

Fleur's eyes shot up towards her dad, who was smirking at her. "Did you just say z'at you agreed to let me go?"

"Yes, I believe I did." Sebastian Delacour replied, smirking all the while at his daughter's antics.

"Yayyy!" Fleur screamed in delight, attacking her dad with the force of a small missile and hugging him tightly. Sebastian laughed loud, caressing the back of his eldest daughter. He may be the most feared man in magical France, even more the Minister at times, but at home, he would be damned if his dear daughters would be afraid of him. If anything, his daughters and their mother ran the house, and by extension, Sebastian himself. Criminals he could handle any day, but the wrath of his wife and daughter? He was not stupid.

"But there are some things you should know, Fleur." Fleur bobbed her head upwards to look into the hazel orbs of her father, "I am accompanying both you and Caro for the tournament. Of course, your mother and sister will be there for the matches, but I will be there with you throughout the tournament."

"But Papa, what about your job?"

"Well I did an overtime last month, while capturing the terrorists from Bulgaria, so I do think no one would mind if I take a two-week holiday. After all I am-"

"Most feared man in France." Fleur chanted, laughing out with mirth. Sebastian joined her in her mirth.

* * *

Harry had been having a fun time roaming through the marketplace of the magical village of France. Right now, he was in the French equivalent of Diagon Alley, it was a marketplace like no other. Even Diagon Alley looked small compared to this, both in size, content and variety. Sure Diagon Alley had its own perks, but there were quite a lot that was new to Harry's eager eyes.

He had already bought an educational potion, one that would grant him fluency in understanding the French rune system, a music system that reminded him of the small music pads that he had seen Dudley using. The French had their own lore of magic and importantly, magical toys of a kind he had never seen before. He bought some of them for Astoria, a couple of French perfumes for Susan and Daphne, and a rune scriber set for Daphne.

"Are you done, Harry?"

Harry looked back at his professor. His delighted eyes betraying his words, he nodded in acceptance. Flitwick laughed.

"We must go Harry. We need to submit our entry forms after all."

"Sure thing Professor, I will just purchase the things in hand and then we can leave." Harry turned towards the door in front, the one which opened into a bookstore for French magic, when a silvery haired girl opened the door and walked out at the same time.

The result- they fell head first into each other.

"OWW!"

"OOOF!" "Hey watch before you walk!" the girl cried out, almost in a whimper.

"Sorry!" Harry apologized, standing up, as he held out his hand towards her. The girl, he noticed, had beautiful silver hair, and eyes just like Daphne, blue and deep, with a happiness that was radiating out of them.

"Sorry, I should have watched before entering." He started to say.

* * *

Fleur and Caroline had been to the La Ville magicus to fetch some last time supplies, when Fleur's attention was stolen by some newer varieties of books on dueling. Figuring that some last minute help won't be bad, she had entered the shop. After half an hour, when she realized that she was getting quite late, she decided to skip her mannerisms and run like hell. Her father was extremely strict on punctuality after all. Buying the books in hand, she had made a dash for the door. What she had not expected was another person, a boy of her own age she may add, to be walking inside at that very moment.

They had collided head on and she had fallen down over the boy. From what it seemed, he was almost of her age but obviously not from France, his English was way too good for that. He was also not one of the bigots she knew so well in school. But the greatest shock was still to come.

The boy had stood up, and asked for her hand to help her get up. She had seen him looking straight into her eyes, and mentally prepared herself for another of those 'Veela-things' to happen; that is, the boy's eyes would get dazed and he would try to be all flirty and trying to impress her and-

"Sorry, I should have watched before entering."

Fleur blanched in shock, not being able to register what had happened. The boy had ignored her allure. She could only nod dumbly as she held his hand, noticing he had quite a muscular yet lean build, and had beautiful emerald eyes, that shone like flames. She was momentarily reminded of the killing curses fired at her manor by the terrorists the previous year.

Caroline walked up and held her friend, as Fleur grasped her control back to reality. The encounter was ... odd. She had never met someone who had completely ignored her allure. It was only because Sebastian was her father that he did not feel her allure, but even he, slightly felt the allure from her mum. And he was a master Occlumens.

"Are you all right? Fleur?"

"uh-hum." Fleur replied back intelligently.

Caroline smirked.

Fleur glanced back towards the store. The boy was gone.

* * *

"Caro? Can you tell me what has put my daughter under that irksome trance?" Pauline asked.

"She met a boy on the street." Caroline answered back with a smirk.

"Oh! Is that so?" Pauline pressed, "and?"

"He was immune to my allure." Fleur answered, still glazed over, as if in a trance.

"Surely you exaggerate? And a boy, you say?"

Fleur bobbed her head.

"Obviously a foreigner I suppose?"

Fleur bobbed her head again.

"Then he must have come for the tournament." Pauline declared.

Fleur's head turned towards her sharply, "You think so?"

"I know so."

Caroline smirked. She knew the wheels that were working inside her friend's mind.

"I am sure," Fleur began, coming out of her trance, "that we will figure out the secret of his immunity, very soon."

Pauline smiled.

* * *

"Harry? Come over here. "Filius called out, as the executive had come for their inspection.

"Please show me your wand?" the pretty executive asked.

Harry decided not to think about the sexual innuendo behind her words, and handed over his wand. She passed the wand through a greyish contraption, and a parchment slip shot out.

 _Must be one of those things they have at the ministry._

"Deathwood and a fusion core. Unyielding. Been in use since nine months." She read.

 _Okay! Better than one of those things at the ministry._

Flitwick glanced at him, at the news of his wand. Harry nodded subtly, signaling him that they would speak on that later.

"And your name is... oh Harry James Potter! You are not the boy-who-lived by any chance, are you?"

"The very same, madam", Harry replied with that fake flashy smile, he had learnt to imitate for his political attire.

"Oh!" She squeaked, "very pleased to meet you Mr. Potter. Hope you have a great time at the tournament."

"Oh I hope so!" Harry flashed his smile again.

The executive nodded and left.

"Anything I should know Harry?" Filius put in.

"My magic had changed after the heirship ritual", he paused. It was truth anyway. He had done the heirship ritual after the cleansing. "and I needed an adjustment done to my wand."

Flitwick listened to his answer. When he was satisfied, he nodded and walked away. Harry followed him.

* * *

"Master Flamel?"

"Yes?" the heavy voice of the ancient Alchemist resounded out of his study.

The elf stood silent for a moment, and then replied, "You have a visitor, master."

"Oh!"

There was a silence.

"Well who is it?"

The elf spoke up. "Albus Dumbledore."

Silence.

"Where is he?"

"In the hall."

Silence.

"Very well, tell him I shall be there shortly."

"As you wish, Master." There was a small pop, and silence pervaded again.

Albus Dumbledore was many things. He was an accomplished master of battle transfiguration and a renowned researcher, his best so far being the twelve uses of dragon's blood that he had collaborated with his long time mentor and friend, Nicholas Flamel. The defeater of Grindelwald, grand sorcerer, supreme Mugwump, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Chief Warlock of Wizengamot were the other titles that hung beside his name. But for the moment, Albus Dumbledore sat in a couch of the great hall in Flamel Mansion, readying himself for getting some serious chastisement.

"Albus. Did not think you would come back so soon, especially after our last encounter."

Albus winced. The last time he had been there, he was just one step away from being thrashed like a dusty rag. He had asked for the Philosopher's stone from his mentor, wanting to use it as a bait for Voldemort, but the stone had gotten destroyed in the process. Nicholas was... let's just say he was furious and leave it to that. Dumbledore was no weak wizard, but he knew that barely stood any ground before his mentor. It was quite a mystery why his mentor and friend was so reclusive.

"I wanted your ... advice in a certain matter."

"I hope it is not some new tomfoolery again."

"No Nicholas. This is different."

Nicholas waited for his explanation.

Silence.

"Well?"

"I wanted to ask, what you knew about Elementals?"

Whatever Nicholas was expecting; this was not it. He narrowed his eyes and looked at his longtime student and ...friend, "Why do you ask?"

"A student of mine claims to be one." Dumbledore answered, surprising himself by his bluntness.

Nicholas laughed loudly. It was hilarious. A student, admitting that he was an elemental of all things? Knowing how the people of Britain would rather kill the child at first chance than let him grow up and perchance, destroy the world again?

"And who is this... petulant child?"

"Harry Potter."

Nicholas's eyes glinted. Now this was interesting.

"The boy who lived?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"And you believe this because?"

"He defeated a Dementor horde."

Nicholas frowned. "Well the boy might be a magical powerhouse and cast a Patronus powerful enough to ward the Dementor off! That doesn't amount to-"

"You do not understand Nicholas." Dumbledore pressed. Standing up to his fullest height, he looked at his mentor in the eye. "What I mean is, _he obliterated the entire Dementor horde, that is, over a hundred of them, with fire."_

Nicolas's eyes glinted.

"Please, tell me in detail."

* * *

 **### This is my fourth chapter since morning. Gosh I must be seriously jobless to write so much. Kidding.**

 **### Anyways, did you expect that coming? Review review!**


	54. ROTS 10: The initial meet

"Participants, please come up to second floor and get your schedules."

The voice announced over the magically enhanced megaphone, and Harry complied with the directions immediately. The dueling tournament was being hosted inside the famous mundane stadium famously known as _Parc De Princes_. The French Ministry of Magic had hired the stadium from the mundane government for the tournament. It goes without saying, that the entire stadium had to be magically proofed of spells, to prevent any damage to the building as a whole.

Harry had seen the entire stadium from the inner grounds. Even to his eyes, the stadium was grand. A staggering amount of fifty thousand people could sit there, and that was not including the magically expanded seating arrangements. The fact that he would be dueling international participants, and all the while, would be watched by the world, sent shivers of excitement down his spine. Of course, it was a different kind of excitement that the one had when facing the basilisk or the Dementors, but Harry had to admit to himself, it was thrilling.

Harry walked up to the second floor, to check his matches and their respective timings, and he found that there were four matches he needed to fight to pass the elimination round, four matches to enter the semifinals and then finally the semifinal and the final match. Ten duels, all in all, provided he kept on winning.

He was just about to collect his schedule card and return back to his seat when he turned and found himself facing the all too familiar blue orbs of that mystery girl he had met the previous day at the marketplace. He could feel the surprise in the blue orbs in front of him, the surprise turned confusion in the heart shaped face, which crunched in some confusion. Harry wondered if he should say something.

"Hello?"

The golden curls of the girl fluttered in the light breeze. She was very beautiful, almost angelic, in an innocent kind of way. Her widened eyes seemed to take in his countenance and his expression.

"uhm... hi!"

"Hi..." her voice was quite melodious. Harry countered his own thoughts about the girl. For all he knew, the girl could be an actual angel. The world was magical after all.

"Could you please?" Harry tried.

"Don't feel my allure at all?" she asked him, point black.

 _Allure?_

"I am sorry, I have no idea, what you are talking about."

The girl's face crunched up. Harry thought she looked quite cute when she did that.

"You are not lying to me, are you?" she asked, rather seriously.

"Not at all." Harry said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly.

The girl stepped back, and stood up to her fullest height. He was just slightly taller than her.

Bringing her hand forwards, she spoke, "Fleur Delacour. Nice to meet you."

Harry shook her hand. "Harry Potter. Same here."

Fleur seemed to remember something, Harry could understand that from her over expressive eyes. "You are the boy-who-lived?"

Harry sighed. "Yes."

"Oh!" Fleur expressed herself intelligently, "My sister has this huge crush on you."

 _Another Ginny Weasley?_

"Fleur?"

Fleur stared at Harry Potter, as if trying to figure out some deep secret.

"Fleur?" came the irritated voice of her father.

She blanched out, and turned back swiftly. Seeing her father standing behind her, she quickly thought of an escape plan. Moving a bit sideward, her tone completely diplomatic, she introduced. "Mr. Potter, this is my father Sebastian Delacour. Dad, this is the famous Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived."

If Harry wasn't an Occlumens, he would have been surprised, shocked and started laughing out loud. The way in which the girl, Fleur Harry reminded himself, had jumped off from her crazy girl avatar to her diplomatic avatar, Harry was almost about to accuse her of having a dual personality or something. Besides, seeing the stern face of the man, her father, who seemed to be quite powerful by looks, Harry did not think that laughing on his daughter would give a good impression to the stern man.

He introduced himself to the large man in front of him. "nice to meet you, sir."

The man shook his hand, and said, "Likewise. I knew your father."

Harry's eyes widened with surprise.

"You do?"

Sebastian nodded. "He was part of the squad that was sent to France during the last war. He and his friend, Sirius Black, I haven't seen a more talented duo. Took out more than half of the death eaters that had tried to break into the meeting."

"Sirius is my godfather. Sir"

"yes, I heard about him being incarcerated. Couldn't believe my ears. That man was more close to your dad than blood family is. I am happy that he had had his trial and has been declared innocent. Is he here too?"

"He will, Sir. By the next two days."

"It will be nice to meet him. That aside, how do you know my daughter? "he asked, a little sternness seeping into his voice.

"I don't, Sir. I just learned her name."

"He is the one I was telling you about, Dad."

"Oh!"

Sebastian looked back at Harry. "My daughter has been in a trance since yesterday, about how you were immune to her allure. I did not believe it, of course, but that did not stop her from seeking you out today."

"Dad! I didn't seek him out." Fleur complained hotly.

Sebastian laughed,

Harry had been looking back and forth at the banter; it was very similar to the Weasley twins. He did not still know what this allure was, but assumed it was something to do with Fleur.

"Sir, if you do not mind me asking, what is this allure, exactly?"

Sebastian looked at Harry for a moment. Determining that his response was innocent enough, he complied. "My daughter Fleur is a Veela. She has this attraction about her, known as the Allure, that tends to make males go... frenzy around her. Boys lose their morality in her presence and try to impress her, and in some cases, try to force themselves on her."

Harry's eyes glinted with fury at the statement. Growing up with Dudley, he had been bullied all his childhood, and hence, had zero tolerance for bullies. What Sebastian was describing, was basically bullying where the bullies even had an excuse, the allure in this case. Harry wondered how Fleur even retained her innocent behavior despite all that.

"I am sorry to hear that. I do not know why, but the allure does not affect me."

Sebastian smiled. "You should come home sometimes. Your father was a friend. Maybe Fleur could do having some more friends. He glanced at his daughter, who blushed for a second.

"I take it you will be participating." Harry nodded. It was glaringly obvious. "Fleur here, is participating as well. What year are you in, at Hogwarts?"

"Fourth." Harry replied succinctly.

"Indeed?" Sebastian's eyebrows raised. "you don't look like that. I would have thought you to be in sixth or seventh, I take it my daughter thought identically."

Fleur blushed deeply.

 _Just like Daphne._

 _"_ _She likes you, I think." Nidhogg whispered._

 _Shut up!_

"I just had a growth spurt, recently." Harry explained.

"Well... in that case, I believe I will allow you all to be better acquainted." He smirked, leaving the spot, leaving Fleur and Caroline alone. Caroline came up and shook Harry's hand. "I am Caroline Beaufort. Nice to meet you."

"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you too."

"So Harry! This is the under-nineteen tournament. You being a fourth year, cannot be more than fifteen. I know it's quite unfortunate, for some", she winked as Fleur blushed at her subtle dig, "but do you think you could win against people having higher age and experience?"

Harry stared at her for a second. "People here are higher than me in, age, Yes. Experience, No."

It was not a boast. It was a fact.

"OOH! Confidence. I like it." Caroline winked. "Fleur, he is all yours." She ended with a smirk.

Harry shook his head at their antics.

* * *

"So Harry, are you tensed?" Fleur asked, as they sat on the bare ground of the stadium. Lush green grass beneath their toes, chatting amiably.

"Not tensed, really. I just want it to begin as quickly as possible."

"You think you can win?" she asked, curious.

Harry nodded.

"Despite you being just fourteen?"

"My being fourteen did not stop you from sitting here with me." Fleur blushed at the dig. "Why should the tournament be any different?"

Fleur nodded. "it's refreshing to sit and talk with someone other than Caro. You can't' believe how difficult it is to be Fleur Delacour at Beauxbatons."

"believe me, I do. I am Harry Potter after all."

Fleur thought about what he said. Realization flooding through her, she countered, "people stare."

"And also scrutinize every action I take, with tainted glasses of their own prejudice."

"How do you deal with it?"

"Getting stronger. People follow the strong."

"I am not as strong as you." Harry narrowed his eyes at her comment. Fleur continued, "One of the traits of Veela is that we can sense the magical potency of a wizard. My father is a very strong wizard. People fear him. You on the other hand-"

Harry looked at her directly.

"Your magic, its overflowing, abundant, destructive and also protective at the same time. I feel completely washed away by the waves of your magic. How are you so powerful?"

Harry considered the question. "Because I intend to be."

"Hmmm." Fleur reflected. "My skills lie in Charms and Enchanting. After my NEWTS, I plan to get my mastery in Enchanting and Spell creation. You have your OWLs next year, I believe."

Harry thought at Fleur's non-question. The news of his clearing his OWLs would be public coon anyway. Sighing to himself, he replied, "I gave my OWL exams a month ago."

Fleur blanched in surprise. Here was a fourteen-year-old, who had already sat for his OWLs.

"but how could you even sit for it? The syllabus is-"

"Self-study". Harry ended the room for argument.

"I ... see." She didn't.

"Let's go upstairs. The elimination will be starting any moment. Good luck, Harry."

"Good luck to you too, Fleur."

* * *

Peter had finally managed to find a baby as per as his Lord's requirements. What followed was beyond what even Peter had anticipated. The dark lord had asked him to collect some of Nagini's venom, collect a few ingredients and prepare a potion. Once it was created, Peter had to pour the potion down the little baby's throat. The baby fainted immediately, or at least that was what Peter thought. The wraith of his lord had then possessed the baby boy. When the boy had woken up, it was no longer alive. Its eyes were glowing red, much like his lord's eyes, and it spoke in that spooky voice.

"I am back, Wormtail."

Peter was completely beside himself. The spooky red eyes of the boy in front of him, seemed to even haunt him during his dreams. Had he been knowledgeable of ancient rituals, he would have known that his lord, whom he had served with so much diligence, had used him in what could be termed as a sacrificial ritual. The first part of the ritual was done, and Peter would now be tortured with nightmares until the last part of the ritual was complete. The last ritual would require Peter's death, thus ending his nightmares for once and forever. There was after all, a reason that the forbidden ritual was referred to as _'the nightmare child.'_

* * *

The tournament had begun. The candidates were placed in random order. Fleur in Group 2, and Harry in Group 3. To Harry's surprise, there were two familiar names in the list. One was Su li, a Ravenclaw student, a year senior to him. The other was someone he did not, even in his dreams, could have foreseen facing, especially after all the stuff he had went through the last couple of weeks. It was a flabbergasted Harry who saw the name of one opponent he did not want to face.

Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 **### My fifth chapter for the day! I guess this is some kind of a record for me. 5 chapters in a day. I do not think I will be able to update any more before the next couple of days, so decided to give it my best shot today. Hope it has been fun reading, and please review!**


	55. ROTS 11: Elimination

**ELIMINATION, ROUND 1**

Harry stood opposite to his opponent, a tall lanky boy from Durmstrang, some Sasha Asimov. The duo was separated by twenty feet as they stood on the stoned floor. The entire floor was floating over the lush green grass of the original stadium ground, an ingenuity that was only possible through runic combinations. Being natural at runes, Harry could not help but appreciate the ingenuity of the architects.

The rule was simple. The first person to fall would be eliminated, while the one left standing would move on. It was clear and simple, and the rules would remain unchanged until the quarterfinals would begin. Twirling his wand loosely on his palm, as he had done during his duel with Auror Tonks, Harry waited for his opponent to begin.

The commentary was going on at full volume, as the commentators kept informing the audience about the results of every single duel. Harry waited for the referee to give the signal.

 **THREE, TWO, ONE...DUEL!**

The Russian started off by firing multiple blasting curses at Harry who efficiently dodged them, weaving his way towards his opponent. His opponent got tensed seeing the lack of any success and proceeded to firing high powered bone breakers. Harry side stepped the two curses and fired out a powerful Expelliarmus. The spell hurled out his opponent's wand, hurling him away at the same time.

" **Now that was a powerful Expelliarmus. And with one single shot, Harry Potter moves on for his next."**

Fleur stood her ground as her opponent took a standard dueling stance. The boy started to throw a series of cutting curses which Fleur deflected with a wide area shield and threw a powerful blasting curse back at her opponent, securing her victory.

" **Fleur Delacour moves to the next round of Elimination."**

* * *

 **ELIMINATION, ROUND 2.**

The opponent was quick. Harry had to give him that, but not as quick as the dummies in the Room had been, and Harry had blasted them to shreds even then. He fired a series of low powered reductor curses, making it difficult for his opponent to remain in any particular spot. The boy in front of him, dived out of the spell.

 _How Predictable._

Harry immediately fired an Impedimenta, slowing the boy down, midway. Another blasting curse and the quick diver was out of the game.

Fleur was facing a problem. She was facing Andrew Wilkes, a dueling champion of her own school, and a year senior to her. The boy was quick, his reflexes sharp and his attacks powerful. He did not waste spells, just high powered cutting and blasting curses. Fleur was having a hard time holding her ground. A cunning idea rising out of her mind, she allowed an Expelliarmus to hit her, and as expected, her wand shot out of her hand upwards. Wilkes had perhaps taken that as his win, as could be seen by the lax in his posture. Fleur took the advantage and shot out two fireballs out of her hand, taking Andrew by surprise. The boy hastily drew up a shield but it was not enough. The fireballs hit his shield with a resounding gong, shattering them and hurling him down. Fleur walked forward and collected her wand, her face smiling in victory.

" **Ooh that was sneaky. But within the rules. Fleur Delacour moves in for the next round."**

* * *

"So this... Harry Potter, he is the new Lord of Slytherin, you say?"

Albus Dumbledore nodded. Although he suffered from a pathological need to keep secrets, he knew better than doing that in front of his mentor, a man who if he wanted, could easily outdo him in a duel any day. Albus had been fortunate, or rather unfortunate to see him once radiating his magic. The feeling was... overwhelming. If Harry Potter was an elemental, it made things complicated. The prophecy was about the defeat of Voldemort, it never said anything about Harry's personal inclinations. It would not do to defeat one dark lord and then leave the throne empty for a much deadlier dark lord to take the place. There was a reason elementals were hated by wizards, after all. He knew Harry was an instinctually good person at heart, but situations and experiences could change the best of men. Albus knew that, he had seen the rise of two deadly dark lords, close up and personally.

"I want you to bring him here. I want to... analyze him personally," his eyes glancing up at his student, "without any outside interference. If it helps, I promise he will not suffer. If he is not a threat, he will be unharmed. And if he is..."

The unsaid threat hung in the air.

"Where is he, right now?"

"He is participating in the dueling tournament here in France."

"All the better." He got up from his couch. "I haven't been to any dueling tournaments recently, Albus. Would you mind accompanying an old man for a leisurely walk?"

* * *

 **ELIMINATION, ROUND 3.**

The girl was deadly. Attractive but deadly. Wonderful combination. Wonderful, dangerous and deadly. The way she was swaying her hips, it was an obvious play to cause a distraction. And when the opponent was distracted, she would pull out the big guns. Bone breakers, flame spells and body binds. Yes, she was good.

Harry raised his shield for the second time during the match. The dueling style of the girl, Issa her name was, Harry reminded himself, was clearly unconventional. Her style of dueling was... completely random. At times, she would fire in one style and then midway, she would jump to another, flipping almost effortlessly while her opponents got confused by her switching tactics.

Harry smirked. He was enjoying this duel.

He raised a wide area deflecting shield, causing her spells to splash against his. He rapid fired two curses, an Incendio and a Glacius spell near her, causing the spells to collide, causing a steamy mist to arise out of it. Taking advantage, he fired off a Patronus at her.

" **Oh! Did you see that? Harry Potter just fired off a fully-fledged Patronus right in the middle of the fight, without even stopping or breaking his stride. I wonder what other powers Harry Potter has held up in his sleeve."**

Issa had previously thought that she had finally got the edge. Her opponent, quite strong and sharp, if she was honest with herself, had raised a deflecting shield to cause her spells to splash against them. She was about to move in for the kill when the two rapidly fired spells caused the steamy mist to blur her sight. She was busy removing the mist away when the blasted wolf Patronus of all things broke in through the mist towards her. She hastily raised a shield but to her shock, the wolf broke through it, causing her mind to go into disarray. Patronuses didn't behave like that.

She had hardly been able to regain her hold on the ground when the unexpected reductor hit her, blasting her away.

" **And after another fantastic duel, Harry Potter moves in for the final round of elimination. He will now be facing the other winner from Group 3, Caroline Beaufort. The winner of this duel shall move in for the quarterfinals."**

* * *

Caroline. Caroline Beaufort. Fleur's friend. He watched as Caroline took the opposite side of the dueling ground, smirking at him.

"Let's see if your words are true, Mr. 'age, yes; experience, no.' Shall we?"  
Harry smirked. "Bring it on," his wand back to his loosely hung position. Caroline saw his gesture and raised an eyebrow. Taking Harry's gesture as a challenge, she raised some very fine shields and started hurling reductor and confringo curses at full speed.

Harry smirked. He weaved through the curses, deflecting them when necessary, and moved in towards Caroline. It was a risky move, but the results it offered were great. Caroline sensed his play and kept firing curses, which grew increasingly tandem with time. She could not allow the boy to come close to her, else she would have the short end of the stick.

" **Seems like Caroline Beaufort is having some trouble taming the quick movements of Harry Potter."**

Harry smirked at the sexual innuendo behind the commentary, and moved in for the kill. He was almost near the frontage of Caroline's shields, when Caroline decided to stop her attempts and begin throwing impedimenta spells. Harry used a deflector, transfigured a bull out of the stone chips on the battleground, and ordered it to barge on the shields.

Caroline was now facing a literal bull hammering on her shields. She let the shields fall, as she transfigured the barging bull into a frog. She never saw the blasting curse coming her way.

" **And with quick move, Harry Potter moves in to the quarterfinals. What a spectacular dueling, ladies and gentlemen."**

* * *

Fleur was in a dilemma. She was sad for her best mate Caro who had been eliminated, and yet happy for Harry who had aced the duel, effortlessly she might add. And top of it all, her opponent was hammering at her shields. No matter what she did, the pale blonde, one Draco Malfoy, was consistently firing borderline dark blasting curses on her shields. Spells she could deflect, but dark curses were another thing. Fleur knew she would have to do something else she would be out of the game.

She gave her shields one final energy boost, before using her hands to hurl fireballs at her opponent, who got disarrayed by the sudden advent of the fireballs, and was having trouble with them. Spells would splash against shields, no problems. Fireballs though, if the shield managed to intercept them, would splash over on it, causing a layer of flame that covered the sight of the caster, allowing the opponent to cast more spells.

Fleur used the distraction to gather up some of her innate energy and fired off a powerful stunner. The stunner hit the shields full head on, causing a resounding gong, and pushing Draco a few steps back, completely disheveled. The final hammer fist spell from Fleur hurled Malfoy out of the ring.

" **A stunning move by Fleur Delacour, who enters the quarterfinals. With this, the process of elimination ends for the day and we shall move on to the quarter finals from tomorrow. Have a great day Ladies and gentle-wizards. The betting corner is in the south end for our more enthusiastic viewers. Have a great day!"**

* * *

"Hey Fleur."

Fleur looked up to find her newest friend, Harry Potter walking up to her. She walked up to him, and hugged him, surprising herself. She did not notice the raised eyebrows that her family and Caroline gave her. After her brief hug, she stepped back and blushed lightly, only to be brought back into reality by the enthusiastic shouts of her sister Gabrielle.

"Papa, is that Harry Potter? I want to talk to him. Please Papa Please." She begged. Sebastian Delacour sniggered at his daughter's antics and took her to where Fleur was standing with Harry. Introducing him, he remarked. "Harry, this is my youngest, Gabrielle. She is... quite enthusiastic about you." He said with a grin.

Harry looked down at the little girl hiding behind her father's robes. Gabrielle, he reminded himself. This was no Ginny Weasley. This was a tiny little girl, about eight or nine in age, Harry guessed. Walking towards her and kneeling down, he forwarded his hand towards her and smiled.

"How are you Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle squeaked, her face imitating a ripe tomato. Fleur chortled at her sister's embarrassment. She knew Gabrielle was madly crushing on her friend. A slightly jealous feeling shot through her. Where had that come from? She wondered.

"I am fine. You are my biggest hero." Gabrielle squeaked out, using her hands to display how 'big' a hero Harry was to her. Harry chortled in return, his hands running through the little girl's lustrous hair. Gabrielle seemed to melt at the touch.

Harry stood up, and introduced Filius to the rest of the group. "Mr. Delacour, Fleur, this is my professor and former dueling champion, Filius Flitwick," je indicated at his charms professor. "He was the one who decided to sponsor and prepare me for the tournament."

Filius nodded, and he shook his tiny hands with Sebastian, who remarked, "Your protégé is quite a remarkable duelist, Professor Flitwick." The charms master squeaked in appreciation and nodded.

Turning to Harry, Sebastian continued, "You dueled very well Harry. Ever thought of becoming an Auror? Or a Hit Wizard perhaps? Your dueling skills would take you far in that field."

"Thank you Mr. Delacour, but I am still keeping my options open. I want to study different branches of magic at first, and see what takes my fancy. Till then, I have my House business ventures to manage." He replied genially.

Sebastian nodded. This was a remarkable young man, not like the bigots he usually dealt with. He noticed his daughter was quite comfortable around him too. An idea for a near future came to his mind, but he filed that for later.

"We were heading for lunch, why don't you both join us?"

* * *

Sirius Black was in a hurry. Well not just him, but the entire team, that is, a werewolf who had been freshly cured of dragon pox, a stern head of DMLE and an overexcited ponytailed Bones heiress, were all in a hurry. They had been delayed at Thailand by two days, and had thus missed Harry's elimination round. Although he had full faith on his godson's potential, he felt that he had once again let down Harry by not being there for the tournament as he promised.

He had just reached the city of Paris with his entire group in tow. Not knowing where Harry would be at the moment, he decided that the best thing to do would be to go to the venue itself. Harry would obviously be somewhere around the place. Using the coordinates provided, he apparated for the spot.

They reached in front of what seemed to be a great mundane stadium, although right now it was completely warded all around, with different variations of notice-me-not and spell-proofing. He crossed the wards, brought some elite tickets for the rest of his family. It would not do to get some silly corner seat, and not be able to see his godson dueling in all his glory.

"Sirius, look there," Remus cried out; his voice still croaky due to the after effects of the disease. They spotted the tiny half goblin walking on the pavement, towards the cafeteria. And walking beside him, head held high, was his godson, who was busy talking to some blonde girl, who was busy chatting up to him, waving her hands in a handy-dandy fashion.

"I hope that is not his new girlfriend. Daphne will not be pleased if it is." Susan muttered.

Amelia looked down at her niece and replied back in a condescending tone. "Suzy, it is not good to say like that. You know Harry better than make some premonitions about him. And even if that could be his new girlfriend, he would still be legally correct. As lord of multiple houses, it is his right, should he choose to marry multiple girls for his different houses."

Susan frowned. Lord of multiple houses or not, Daphne would not be happy about it. Daphne was her best friend. She decided to cross Harry about it later.

"Now come, lets meet them." Amelia finished, as she strode with her fiancé towards Harry.

* * *

Harry was busy chatting away with Fleur when a rather familiar voice called him from behind. It was his godfather and the rest of the group. Harry felt a bit bad that his godfather had not been for his elimination round, but then, he was busy spending time with Fleur, to have noticed their absence. He excused himself as he rushed to greet his godfather.

"Sirius!" he hugged, and then stepped back. With a mock anger, he scowled, "Where were you during the elimination?"

Sirius looked completely guilty, as he looked down on the ground, finding the stones on the pavement very interesting at the moment. Remus caught on to the discussion, "That would be because of me, Harry. I guess my treatment took a bit more time than expected."

Harry walked over and hugged him. "How are you now Moony?"

Remus smiled. "Better."

"Ahem!" Harry turned his head at the distraction. Susan was standing in the middle, her arms folded before her breast.

Harry rushed towards her and gave her a gripping hug. Susan hugged him back, but there was a certain... coldness about her. Harry decided to talk to her about it later.

"Won't you introduce us to your new friend, Harry?" Susan replied bitingly.

"Huh? Oh yeah sure. Everyone, meet Fleur Delacour. Fleur, meet everyone." He smirked, at Sirius' frowning expression at Harry's improper introduction.

"Nice to meet you Fleur. I am Amelia Bones, and this is my niece Susan." Susan nodded frostily at Fleur, who nodded back, eyebrows raised at the frosty behavior of the ponytailed redhead in front of her.

Sirius introduced himself to her. "I am Sirius Black. This young man here, who has got no sense of proper decorum," Harry maturely stuck out his tongue at Sirius, "is my godson. I think I might know your father."

"You should. After all, I saved your arse twice." Came the heavy voice of Sebastian from behind.

"Sebastian!" Sirius called out genially, "it has been long, old friend"

"Old friend, indeed. Tell me Black, how did you of all people managed to get thrown into prison for a decade?" Sebastian remarked.

"It is a long story. I am surprised you know Harry."

"Well he was quite quick at gaining the attention of my eldest daughter." Sebastian smirked, as Fleur blushed. Susan narrowed her eyes. Nudging Harry in his ribs, she whispered, "You and I have a lot to discuss. Get an excuse."

Harry understood the situation now. He nodded resiliently. Turning to the others, he cleared his throat loudly. "I uhm... want to show Susan around a bit. Meet you in ten minutes."

Sirius nodded and turned back to his friend. "So heading for lunch, are we?"

"Yes. Come on Fleur, we are getting late." Fleur looked back at Harry who was walking away with that redhead, Susan, Fleur reminded herself. A sick feeling rose in her throat, but she controlled it and walked forward with the rest of her family.

* * *

"Enjoying the tournament Harry?" Susan asked, her biting tongue still dominant.

"Yes." Harry let out.

"I can see that, almost like any of the other Pureblood bigot would." She replied sassily.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the veiled insult. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you are finally entering into your proper Pureblood form. Having one betrothed sitting at home, you spending time with another-"

"Susan you are not making any sense."

"Am I? Then please explain to me Lord Potter, why are you two-timing with this Veela here when you have already a person betrothed to you? One girl not enough for your exquisite tastes?"

"Shut up Susan. You are clearly out of your mind. Fleur is, well she is a friend. A very nice friend no doubt, but just a friend. We share some similar pasts so I can relate myself to her quite well."

"And of course, she being a Veela is just the extra cream."

"Her Veela nature does not matter to me. I am, apparently immune to her allure."

What?

Susan was shocked.

"So she doesn't have you twirled around her little finger?" she asked, her anger a bit subdued.

"Like Daphne does? "Harry chortled, "No she doesn't. But I expected you to at least talk to me before jumping to conclusions Susan. I am disappointed."

"but?"

"Let's go for lunch. I am famished and it's getting quite late." Harry headed out towards the cafeteria with a subdued Susan following him silently.

* * *

 **###I know I am being bombarded with reviews and PM's; all asking me the same question. Is this a Harry/multi story? I will just say that there is a reason the story tagline displays a Harry/Daphne. More than that, well you will have to wait and read on. I am not about to be giving out any spoilers.**

 **###Reviews, please.**


	56. ROTS 12: Plots and Plays

Draco Malfoy was having a very puzzling summer. For starters, there was the return of Sirius Black who had taken up the mantle of the Black Lordship, obliterating all his hopes of being the Future Lord Black. Then, his father had returned home from the Wizengamot session, desperate and worried about some new Lord of Slytherin House. Draco had thought about it a lot. He knew that the dark lord was believed to be the heir of Slytherin, before he met his downfall at the hands of the baby Potter. He was then reminded of the events of his second year, when people had accused Harry Potter as the heir of Slytherin because he could speak Parseltongue. Bollocks! Potter was the epitome of Gryffindor, there wasn't an ounce of Slytherin in him. But that realization had not stopped Draco from making the life of his nemesis a hell during that year.

Then, Harry Potter had come out of the illusive chamber of secrets, saving Ginny Weasley and killing a basilisk of all things. The heir of Slytherin had been supposedly defeated, and yet no one knew who the blasted heir was. Draco mused that the heir must have somehow escaped the castle, leaving Potter behind to fight the basilisk. But why, Draco could not answer. Potter was nothing spectacular. If anything, his own scores were considerably higher than Potter; except in DADA. The blasted brat was scary in that.

Third year, Potter had done a reverse run down. He had embraced the egalitarian values of Purebloods and dressed as his station demanded. Draco had often wondered whether he should have given another chance at friendship with Potter. But one thing led to another, and the dam broke when Potter stole Draco's chance at Greengrass.

Draco had been immensely pleased when he had converted the idiot Weasley to his side, but it proved to be almost useless. Weasley for all purposes, was good at only three things, eating, playing chess and talking about Quidditch. In the early days of his new 'friendship' with Weasley, Draco had often thought of getting to know what was so special about him. There should have been something special, else Potter would not have ridiculously chosen Weasley over himself. He was Draco Malfoy, after all, heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy.

Then, everything had changed during the summer.

He had heard from Ronald, how Potter was going to participate in the dueling tournament in France. At that time, Draco had thought that it would be a nice way to analyze the powers of his nemesis. He had hence, signed for the tournament. The Malfoys were quite famous in France, and it had been child's play for his dad to get him entry for the tournament. But what had really bugged him were the last words his father had with him before he had left.

 **FLASHBACK**

" _Draco, you remember how I had asked you to 'feel out' Potter in your first year at Hogwarts?"_

 _Draco nodded._

" _Well, you had told me that Potter is finally coming into his heritage. Correct?"_

 _Draco nodded again._

 _Lucius sat down before his son, and held his shoulders firmly. "I want you to understand something. I want you to 'feel out' Potter again. Know his skills, know his weaknesses but also steer clear of him, at least as much as possible. Do not get into fights unless it is absolutely necessary. This is very vital; you understand me right?"_

 _Draco could understand what his father wanted him to do; but for the life of him, he could not understand why. But he was a Malfoy, and he adored his father. So he would do it. At least for the moment._

 _He nodded._

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

Here he was now, participating for the tournament. Although he was defeated in the eliminations by that French Veela, he swore to himself that he would make himself better, and come next year, he would win it.

"Is that you, Malfoy?"

The voice shook Draco out of his reveries. Turning around, he saw his long term friend and ally, Augustin Montague, waving at him, smirking all the while.

* * *

"I'm sorry we got a bit deviated in showing Susan around." Harry apologized as he sat beside Fleur, joining the rest of the group for lunch. Susan silently took the seat next to Amelia and munched her food without a single word. Amelia and Sirius looked at each other for a second, and exchanged a mental conversation. Nodding to each other, Sirius looked back at his godson and remarked. "So Harry, how is the tournament?"

"Interesting. Not much of a challenge yet, though." It was a statement, not a boast. Everyone could see the expression on his face. There was a slight tension hovering over him, but a cool sense of confidence blew from his posture. Fleur bent towards him and whispered. "Anything wrong?"

Harry denied with a single nod, and went back to eating.

"So Sirius, are you planning to revert back to being an Auror?" Sebastian spoke out, breaking the sudden silence.

"I am hoping." Sirius winked to his fiancée, "if she will have me."

Sebastian roared with laughter, at the double speak. So young Harry here is your heir is it? Nice young man you have there. Better than you and his dad. You two were a couple of young rascals then, if I remember."

Sirius laughed aloud, and then drunk in some more wine.

* * *

"Is something wrong, Harry?" Fleur asked with concern in her eyes.

Harry nodded in denial. Fleur continued, "The girl Susan, she doesn't seem to like me at all. Is it because I am a Veela?" She held Harry's chin and made her look into her eyes. "Harry, please do not lie to me."

Harry sighed. "She thought that you had used your allure on me."

"But Harry I didn't, you know you-" Fleur began.

"I know, but she did not. We had an enlightening discussion, she understood the thing, end of story." Harry ended, leaving no room for further argument.

Fleur nodded. "You know next year, a prestigious tournament called the Triwizard is going to be hosted. I speculate that it will likely be hosted at Hogwarts. So, maybe, we will be seeing each other shortly again. That is," she bit her lip, "if you want."

Harry smiled. "I would love to. You would like all my friends."

"I would like that. Are you going to go see the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Well I personally had no wish, but perhaps Sirius has already bought the tickets, so... I guess I am."

"Papa has had the top seats reserved. In the minister's box, that is."

Harry thought that given Sirius' new lordship, and the way Fudge was being so cozy in the party, he would perhaps end up in the minister's box as well.

He looked up at her and flashed his bright smile.

Fleur scowled. "Don't smile like that. It's so fake."

Harry smirked and then flashed his trademarked grin.

"Now! That's better!" she chortled.

* * *

"Montague?"

"The very same, you old cow. What are you doing here?"

"Same as you. Although I got eliminated in the last match."

"ha! Not surprising! I wonder how a puny like you even won the first duel." Augustin chortled. Malfoy's eyes flashed in anger, but he controlled his emotions. Montague was a family friend. It would not do to put him off. Besides, maybe he could use Montage for his research on Potter.

"ha-ha! Very funny! But seriously, you are in the tournament right?"

"That should be obvious Malfoy! Or have you forgotten the number of time you landed on your arse while trying to duel me." Augustin declared, a sense of arrogance seeping into his voice. "I won this tournament last year."

 _Very well._

"You know Augustin, there is someone you should be wary of. His name is Harry Potter, Yes that Potter," Draco clarified, "he is participating this year, and doing remarkably well."

 _Bait._

Augustin stared at him. "It is the same guy that cast that Patronus, is he not?"

Draco nodded.

Augustin stood straight. "Very well. I guess I will have fun, showing that puny what real dueling is." He declared.

 _Catch._

"I must be off Montague. Feeling famished," Draco strode off, happy at his success.

* * *

"What did you say to him?" Amelia asked her niece sternly.

"Nothing."

"Susan Mary Bones."

 _Shit. She used my full name._

"I might have accused him of two-timing with Daphne and that Veela girl."

"WHAT?"

Susan closed her eyes. She was screwed.

"And what did Harry say?"

"He is immune to the allure. Or at least he thinks he is."

"He was not lying, Susan."

Susan looked up at her Aunt. "I spoke to Sebastian. Harry is completely immune to her allure."

"But..."

"Nothing. You will not do anything else that might hamper the development of what could be a very useful alliance between the House of Delacour and Potter. Is that understood?"

Susan bobbed her head.

"Good."

* * *

 **RIDDLE MANOR, LITTLE HANGLETON.**

Peter had just returned after fetching some ingredients and milk for his lord's demands. First a decade as a rat, then a year as a fugitive, and now the future as a menial servant; Peter sarcastically laughed at his 'surprise promotion' over the years.

"Any news, Wormtail?"

"None my lord." Peter shook in fear when the baby looked at him with his red eyes, and continued, "but I met a ministry official. Her name is Bertha Jorkins, and she was speaking about something interesting."

"Go on."

"I imperiused her, and she told me about some Triwizard Tournament to be hosted in Hogwarts this year."

"Interesting. Go on."

"I got another information. Barty Crouch has been taken ill by a bout of wizard flu, and has not been seen at the ministry for a week."

"And that is important because?"

"You wanted the body of a strong wizard."

"interesting, I remember Barty crouch being quite a formidable wizard. You have done well, Wormtail. Perhaps a visit to Crouch's home is required. I will look into that."

Peter nodded.

"Tell me Peter. What do you think about the Potter boy?"

"He is quite strong my Lord. Nothing compared to you, but he is string for his age. When I had tried to duel him, he was using Auror level spells. If not for my contingency, I would have failed."

"but you did fail." The dark lord taunted.

"I did not know he was an animagus, my lord. He took me by surprise."

"An animagus... interesting. Such magical potency in a thirteen-year-old. It's quite sad that such a potential is wasted on the Light side. I wish Potter would have joined me."

Peter looked up at his lord in shock. The dark lord was contemplating about making Potter join his ranks. He was actually considering the boy to be a considerable threat, if not now, then in future.

"As you feel best, my lord."

"Very well. Now, go feed Nagini."

Peter complied.

* * *

 **PREVIOUSLY THAT AFTERNOON...**

The six feet tall, elderly gentleman sat among the roaring crowd, with his much older student, watching the duels going on in the ground below. He had eyes only for the lean built boy, surprisingly well built for a fourteen-year-old, who had just thrown a Patronus of all things, right in the middle of firing curses at his opponent, and had continued his stride of spells as if nothing had happened.

Nicholas had been almost shocked, at the surprising display of innate magical power. It was simply impossible for a wizard to have that much magical potency and power. While Nicholas himself could also do it, but he was different. He was something else. But the boy... the boy was interesting.

Nicholas had used his mage sight to determine the boy's aura during the duel. To say he was surprised would be unfair. Nicholas was astounded at what he saw. The boy's aura was constant. It was as if he wasn't using magic at all. He had been hurling spells all the while, and even when he had fired off a corporeal Patronus, his aura had not wavered.

That meant either one of two different conclusions...

Either, the boy had a surprisingly powerful magical potency and power, comparable to the war mages of old. So powerful and potent, that small level spells did not even matter to his potency.

Or.

He was a magic-damned elemental. One who had unlimited access to the infinite reserves of energy of the Chaos.

"All right Harry Potter. You have my attention."

* * *

 **###reviews, people!**


	57. ROTS 13: Ending it all

**QUARTERFINALS.**

Harry stood on the opposite end of the dueling ring. The elimination round was over, leaving them with sixteen participants. The sixteen had passed into the quarter finals, and from here, only four would go on forward to the semifinals. Two of them shall further pass into the grand finale which would then be held on the coming Sunday, three days from then.

He was now facing a girl from Beauxbatons, a Claire Roseaveou. Runner up in the previous tournament, Claire was supposed to be an expert in the arts of deception. She had this ability of using spells of similar colors, confusing her opponent while being masterfully quick at attacking.

He twirled his wand on his side, feeling the ivory handle and the waves of magic singing in tune with his core. Although he did not need to use his wand for most of his spells, he still held his wand in the same reverence as he did when he was an untrained boy, standing alone in the Chamber of Secrets for the first time. He had come quite far from that.

 **THREE. TWO. ONE. DUEL!**

Harry waved his wand and threw up two fireballs which barged towards his opponent. Claire used an ice spell to meet the oncoming attack midway, causing an immense steam to fill the entire platform. But that did not stop her from attacking. She kept on firing powerful reductor curses and bone breakers towards the other end of the platform. After a minute of relentless firing, she stopped to observe the results of her attack. The mist was still there but she had not heard any sounds of pain from her opponent, or heard any shields shattering down.

There was just silence.

Suddenly a sound came from above. She looked up immediately and shrieked out in shock. A silver wolf was roaring and barging at her from the sky. She dived towards her left, hoping to miss the attack. She never saw the stunner that was sent her way.

Harry saw her meet his fire with ice based spells. He fired up a couple of explosive curses to increase the smoke that was beginning to form in the center. He saw the mist take the entire platform under its shroud. Knowing that spell fire would begin soon, he used a hammer fist towards the ground, and uplifted himself to the sky, casting an impedimenta on himself. He could hear the commentary in the audience.

" **And the spell collision has caused this mist to cover the stadium, and what is Harry Potter- Holy MOTHER OF! HARRY POTTER HAS UPLIFTED HIMSELF TO THE AIR!"**

He saw the spell fire stop and sent a Patronus down to Claire, followed by a sharp stunner. It hit, acquiring him a solid victory.

" **And with that stunning victory, Harry Potter has moved ahead. What a wonderful duel, ladies and gentle-wizards!"**

Harry let the impedimenta go off as he dropped himself slowly to the ground. Sending his wand back into his holster, he walked off the stage.

* * *

"How do you fight so well Prongslet? Even me and your dad could not coordinate such attacks with such precision together! What are you?" Sirius could not stop himself from thinking, as he saw his godson acquire another victory to his name.

Filius Flitwick had just held on his seat. Yes, his protégé was winning. He knew he should be happy about it. But there was another thought that pervaded the mind of the Charms professor. He just could not help but think about Harry's performance so far.

"I myself could not have performed that move. I am starting to think that even though you are my protégé, I was never your teacher!"

Augustin Montague sat on his seat, looking at the preview. "It will be fun dueling with you Potter. It will be fun, indeed."

Nicholas Flamel just sat in his seat, sipping his juice as he saw the young boy demonstrate wonderful battle tactics. "That was a move worthy of Godric. Who trained you, boy?"

* * *

" **And now we have come to the final round of the quarterfinals. On the one side is Harry Potter of Hogwarts to be facing Devin Prince from Durmstrang. On the other hand, we have Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons facing off Kathy Roberts from Ilvermorny. The third match will be between Julie Mathews from Salem Academy facing off Augustin Montague of Durmstrang. Last but not the least, Andrew Samuels from Salem Academy facing Kenneth Johnson from Beauxbatons. A big hand for all the top eight participants..."**

The crowd roared in appreciation.

" **The first match is between Harry Potter and Devin Prince. Devin Prince is the second runner up from the previous year's tournament and is notorious for his quick attacks. Harry Potter on the other hand, is an unknown entity in the world of dueling and has shown surprising skill, mesmerizing us with his stupendous performances this year. What remains is to find out who shall win! Give them a big round of cheers!"**

The crowd went mad with cheers again.

 **THREE, TWO, ONE, DUEL!**

The kid gloves were off. This was serious dueling. Harry weaved through his opponent's curses, only shifting when necessary, deflecting the oncoming bombardment. It seemed to the audience that Harry was being overwhelmed by the oncoming horde of spells. And Harry let the audience think accordingly. After all, _one man's reality is another man's illusion_. He smirked to himself, as he hastily put forward another simple shield to stop an oncoming curse.

 _Bait._

Devin Prince was pouring in an overwhelming amount of energy into his spells. He had seen the Potter boy fight and knew that it was difficult to hold him in one place. The only possible way- overwhelm him with spells. And he did just that. After relentless firing, he could see the Potter boy trying to hastily put shields in front of him.

 _Got you Potter._

He had to move for the kill. He used his entire magical power to conjure huge boulders and hurled them towards his opponent.

Harry saw his opponent rise to his bait, and go for the killing move. He smirked as he saw Devin conjure boulders.

 _Must be magically exhausted._

He saw Devin hurl the boulders towards him, raining over his shield like meteors.

 _And Catch._

He diffused his shields and waved his wand in an arc above his head, shouting out in my mind.

 _ **Aucta vi clypeum!**_

One of his strongest offensive shields. The spell caused a golden arc of energy form around his head, and propel the incoming boulders back towards Devin. The audience was completely mesmerized.

" **I don't bloody believe it. Potter changed his defensive position into offence and now deflected Devin's final move back to him! It's incredible."** The commentator shouted.

Devin knew the game was over. Potter had won. He had lost. There was no way he could stop the incoming rain of his boulders. He jumped off the platform, saving himself from injury but accepting his defeat.

" **And Harry Potter moves in for the Semifinals."**

"Tell me Brian." Nicholas remarked at his student using his middle name, "What do you think of young Potter now?"

"I think..." Dumbledore paused, "that young Harry had duped me in my own game. I thought I was the one, manipulating him, while it was the reverse. He set the bait, and I caught it, hook, line and sinker."

Nicholas chortled.

"Are you going to stay here any further?" Dumbledore asked, "You have clearly seen and judged him."

"Yes. But why miss such entertainment? In fact, I now repent not bringing Perenelle with me. She would have loved it."

Dumbledore sighed.

* * *

Barty Crouch was a fearsome wizard in his sixties. He was the head of the DMLE during the war and one of the most prodigious wizards in Britain. If there was anyone he actually would defer to, it would be only Albus Dumbledore, because Barty knew that the dotty old man's skill with a wand was frightening. During the war, it was Barty that had technically led the ministry against the dark lord. Everyone had expected Barty to be minister once Bagnold retired.

Then, his son was caught and tried as a death eater.

Barty had been the one to condemn him to Azkaban for life.

His son. His one, only son.

The reporters had swooped down on the news like vultures. Every little detail of defeat on the ministry's side was held against him. They asked- if he could not stop his own son join the death eaters; if he himself was ignorant of his own son's doings; how would he be able to manage the entire nation?

The soon-to-be minister found himself being transferred from his position as head of DMLE to head of International Magical Cooperation. How he hated the Potter brat for what happened. In one single night, the dark lord was defeated, not because of Crouch's hard work, but due to the fluke that happened on that blasted night. His hard work and deeds were forgotten, his son captured, his position taken away.

Barty Crouch was devastated.

And all of that, because of that one small boy.

Harry Potter.

But Crouch was nothing if not resilient. He had worked hard in his new department, and was working diligently until that one day.

His wife fell ill.

Dragon Pox. Final stage.

She was dying. And Barty could do nothing to save her.

But he could fulfill her final wish. No matter how illegal it was. Why care for legality? What had the ministry given him anyway?

And Barty Crouch decided to act.

He took his wife to Azkaban, for a visit.

To his son. His one son. The one, he had condemned to a life in Azkaban.

Junior. Barty Crouch Junior. His son was almost dying. He used a polyjuice potion, and made Junior drink it. He transformed into his mother. Crouch did the opposite with his wife, who transformed into her son.

He took his polyjuice son home. Healed him. Treated him. Fed him. He even set up a fake funeral of his dead wife. Nobody had even seen the empty grave. While there in Azkaban, everyone reported that Junior had died.

And the truth remained out of notice, from everyone else.

Barty had saved his son. He had fulfilled his wife's last wish.

But somehow he had still failed. His son hated him, and tried to kill him plenty of times. So. He put his own son under the Imperius. It hurt, but his son's safety was paramount.

And he did ensure that his son was safe

.

There was a knock on the door. Barty stood and walked up to the door. Normally he would order his elf Winky to do so, but today he felt like doing it himself. One of the day's oddities, perhaps. He walked towards the door, turned the knob over, and opened the door.

A wand poised in front of him.

A pin pointed reductor point blank.

Barty was hurled off towards the wall. His head hit the hard plastered wall. He fell off unconscious.

Barty woke up. He felt the dizziness shake away from him.

"Hello Crouch."

Barty looked up to the source. It was Pettigrew, and a small child. The child was sitting on his chair. It looked up, its deadly red eyes shining bright. It spoke out in that eerie spooky voice.

Voldemort.

The dark lord was back.

He was going to die.

"Hello father." Barty heard the voice of his son. This wasn't happening. How did his son break the Imperius?

A long sharp knife lay in front of him. Barty saw Junior pick it up, clean it from the edges, prick his finger with it. He watched as his son wet the knife in blood. His blood.

"Any last wishes? Bartemious Crouch?"

Barty looked up to the dark lord. Insults were raging high throughout his mind. But only one word reached his mouth.

"Yes."

After an hour, Peter Pettigrew walked out of the Crouch Mansion, pulling a small baby cart, in which the dark lord lay resting. The duo was followed by a thin, lanky man, who swayed as he walked.

The dark lord had finally got another of his loyal death eaters.

Bartemious Crouch Junior.

* * *

Fleur had just faced one of her most difficult duels. After all the cake and watermelon, after hurling of spells and fireballs, erecting shields and breaking shields, dodging and weaving and trying to hold her opponent in one place, it had come down to a very simple final showdown. A power struggle. The one who stood ground till the end had won. And in this case, it had been Fleur. Had she been only a witch, she would have been the one to fall. But her additional fire nature helped her hang on till the end, for the one final push of magical burst that secured her place in the semifinals. Fleur Delacour had won. Kathy Roberts had lost. That was what mattered.

Fleur looked up to Harry, saw him look at her in concern. She smiled.

She fell down unconscious.

" **Ladies and gentle-wizards! Thus ends the quarterfinals of this tournament. Tomorrow, we shall have the semifinals and the grand finale. Tomorrow we shall know the international dueling champion of the year. Tomorrow we shall applaud for the winner.**

 **For semifinals, we have Fleur Delacour versus Augustin Montague and Harry Potter versus Andrew Samuels. Till then, see you all!"**

* * *

 **SEMIFINALS.**

The first match was between Fleur and Augustin Montague. Harry sat in the front row seat, wishing for Fleur's victory. So far, Fleur had been winning match after match, using her skills as well as her Veela powers, and most other battles were an intellectual one. Where she failed in power, she made it up with quick wit. And Harry could only admire that. He wished Daphne would be here, it would have given her a nice viewpoint about practical application of defense spells. But then, Daphne had her skills in mind healing, something Harry did not understand at all. He might be good at many things, but he was simply never born to be a healer. He would be a complete devastation with the simplest healing spells. At least he made up in procuring medical potions.

Harry had skimmed through the portfolio of this Augustin Montague. Two times dueling champion, once under-17 and once under-19. Quite exemplary in using dark curses. The most interesting thing however, was his shield. Augustin was notoriously famous for his use of a dark shield, an unknown spell which he hid from everyone using the excuse of family magic. It was simply unbreakable. Harry wondered about the Arithmancy behind such a spell. Unbreakable in nature, it was a supposedly offensive shield similar to Harry's. If Harry were honest with himself, he would say that Fleur had a poor chance of winning.

 **THREE, TWO, ONE, DUEL!**

Both the participants launched into offensive. Fleur with her fire spells, and Augustin with his dark curses. The curses splashed into each other midway forming multi colored mists as the two opponents wove and slammed spells upon each other. It was even beautiful, in a weird sort of way. After a couple of further slamming of blasting curses, the two became interlocked in a power struggle when Fleur fired off two large fireballs from her left hand. At once, Augustin whispered an incantation and a large mirror like shield appeared within the platform. It was completely black with silver coating at the edges and designed in an odd intricate fashion. The two fireballs hit the shield and to everyone's astonishment, the fireballs seemed to seep into the shield, which increased in size by a tiny bit. Harry was completely stupefied. This was no shield; this was some sort of magical artifact that was somehow tied to the mechanics of the incantation that Montague had chanted. He saw Fleur hit the shield with some more spells and even a powerful lightning spell, but all of them only helped the shield increase in its size, as if feeding on the energy of the spells.

Harry was sure that if Fleur did not change her tactic, she would definitely lose the game. He closed his eyes and focused on a new technique he had mastered as an elemental. The power of Mage sight. When he opened his eyes, the green orbs were completely gone. Instead the golden hue which had initially only circled around the green pupils, now had taken up the entire space.

Harry's entire vision changed. The world was now a spectrum of colors. He focused on the shield cast by Montague and a shiver ran down his spine as he felt his suspicions come true. The shield was an artifact, a dark magical artifact. One which somehow ate up the magical wavelengths of the spells that hit its surface. It was so remarkably simple and yet, finely efficient in its purpose. Just like oaths. Simple, effective and powerful.

Harry stood up, and walked out of the game. The audience were still hung on to the progressing duel, but the game was over for Harry. There was no point seeing Fleur lose helplessly. It was a done deal.

Fleur could feel her energy leave her. She knew that she was going to lose the game. She looked up at the stands, hoping to catch a sight of her new friend. Harry wasn't there. Se braced herself as the dark stunner came towards her.

Fleur fell down, bruising hard as she dashed against the hard stone floor of the platform.

" **Augustin Montague wins! Moves in for the finals!"**

* * *

Harry was standing on the dueling platform. There was simply no point watching Fleur lose. He knew he should have been there, but somehow he couldn't convince himself to stay back there. His wand twirled in his finger, dancing from one finger to another, his magic dancing in tune with its core. Augustin would win. It was a fact. Fleur would lose. It was given. All that mattered now was that Harry would face him in the finals. It was given. Nobody could change that fate. Nobody.

Augustin Montague would face Harry Potter. Augustin Montague would learn that Harry Potter did not like cheaters. Augustin Montague would pay.

It was no more a question of who would win and who would lose. That was a given. What mattered now, was how badly Augustin Montague would lose.

And Harry would give it to him.

* * *

It was time for the second semifinal. Harry Potter versus Andrew Samuels. The kid gloves were off. Harry did not have any further intention to duel. He just wanted the match to be over.

 **THREE, TWO, ONE, DUEL!**

Samuels burst into offensive spell casting. He hurled out spell chains after spell chains of offensive curses. Harry stood his ground, stoic and expressionless. He did not move even an inch. The audience watched with their hearts in their mouths. It was as if Harry Potter had lost the will to fight.

Harry raised his wand in the air, and slashed an arc. A frightening amount of energy burst out of the arc, obliterating the spell chains out of existence. Andrew tried another chain, but harry sliced that one off too.

The audience was stumped. What was happening here was never before seen in the wizarding world. The boy, Harry Potter had simply obliterated an entire spell chain with a magical burst. For a moment, they thought if some confounding spell was in action.

Harry did not smirk. He did not smile. He just stood.

Waiting in silence, for his opponent's next move.

Nicholas sat up straight as he stared at the boy in suspicion. Something had happened. Something had happened that had caused the young elemental to get truly angry. For a moment, he had thought that he would need to intervene, if the elemental did begin to destroy things, but strangely, the boy stood stoic. Nicholas could not stop himself but praise the iron clad control the boy had over his mind.

"Beautiful!" he crowed in his mind.

Andrew was running out of ideas. Nothing he did was working. He would try spell chains; the boy would blow them off like dust. He would try reductors, the boy would engage them midway. It was almost as if, Harry Potter was playing with him.

Harry was now bored. It was time to finish the game. He held his wand in front. Gathering an energy pulse, he sent it through his wand, personalizing it as a blasting curse. Samuels held out a perfectly cast Aegis, only to see it shatter as he felt himself get hurled down the platform.

" **Harry Potter moves in for the finals! Yes, Ladies and Gentle-wizards, Harry Potter of Hogwarts will be facing former dueling champion, Augustin Montague in the finals! Cheer for them everyone!"**

The audience roared like mad.

* * *

The rest of the moments passed away in a blur. Harry stood his ground, waiting silently as the workers performed the necessary spells to make the dueling ground ready for the finale. His eyes were closed, his mind swirling in the clouds of magical aura around him, focusing only on that one single thing.

 _Augustin's shield._

" **Finally, we come to the finals! So without any further delay, let's get to it. Rules are thus. The first one to fall three times, loses. So THREE, TWO, ONE... DUELLLLL!"**

"Sectumsempra!" Augustin roared, firing the dark severing curse. One touch with it, and Harry would bleed to death. But somehow, using dark curses were not against the dueling rules over here.

Harry cast an Aegis shield, intercepting the spell in the middle, as he shot magical lightning in dangerous arcs at Montague. As expected, the shield manifested itself to his rescue and blocked the lightning.

Harry smirked. He wasn't done yet. He had two more things to try, before he would end the duel. He fired subsequent energy bursts out of his wand, wanting to see his opponent in action. Augustin weaved through the spells and fired off a powerful bludgeoning spell. Harry smirked.

 _Time for the first move._

Harry conjured a metal shield and propelled it towards his opponent. The shield intercepted his bludgeoning spell with a mighty gong, and sent the shock waves back at Augustin, hurling him to the ground.

" **First point, to Harry POTTER!"**

Augustin stood up, furious at the way the boy had scored one against him. This was an atrocity. He would make the blasted brat pay. He could see Potter twirling with his wand.

 _Arrogant Sod._

He put his shield to maximum effect, and began blasting curses at Potter. Dark stunners, javelins and bone breakers, but Potter seemed to weave through them. This was an outrage.

Harry weaved efficiently through the curses as he walked towards his opponent. Gathering another energy pulse, he burst it forth, this time as a Patronus. Nidhogg would be so proud of him. _Spell Personalization was a technique Harry had acquired from the serpent._

The shining wolf Patronus barged over his shield, not seeping into the shield, but battering on it like a hammer. The impact sent Augustin down to the platform. Augustin was shocked. That was not to happen. The shield shook hard with a magnified reverberation. Augustin was astounded. A Patronus was vapory, but this? It was as if the shield had been hit by a large metallic object.

" **Second Point, to Harry Potter!"**

" _Spell personalization!_ Brian are you watching this?"

"I do." Albus sighed.

"Next time you want me to go check on someone, I promise I will be ready on one leg. I now repent not coming here before." Nicholas chortled, "I was expecting madness to descend over the tournament, but this, this is exciting!"

Albus did not answer.

 _What other secrets have you been hiding Harry Potter?_

Harry smirked as he saw his opponent get confused. It was the perfect moment. He saw Augustin raise his shield in front, it was obvious he would now go defensive and attack from behind the shield.

 _Time for the kill._

His wand shot back into his holster, as he stood with his palms outstretched. He knew that he should not be doing what he intended to do, but the shield had to be broken. Augustin had cheated his way into the tournament, not just this time but many time before. He had used that thing to defeat Fleur. It was not justice, it was vengeance. And the Chaos burning inside him loved the feeling, pushing him to serve his vengeance. First Augustin, then that attacker, and finally Voldemort, all of them would pay. In Blood.

" _Sorcerer?" Nidhogg began, in his mind._

 _Later._

Harry extended his arms outward, gathering the energy from the Chaos. His eyes turned golden again he needed his mage sight for what he wanted to do now. A cold mist of raw pulsating energy seemed to grasp the entire stadium. The crowd was stupefied, the commentary silent, as they all watched astounded, as Harry Potter performed one of the most arcane and obscure pieces of magic.

"Good Lord! Is he-?" Albus began.

"No Albus. Wait, wait and see." Nicholas remarked, his hand strongly holding down the old Headmaster down on his seat.

The energy mist grew denser and denser until it condensed into something of a more solid outline. It was still mist, but now it was more solid too. The crowd watched mesmerized as the mist took the form of a large dagger.

Harry smirked. He had finally known what he was doing wrong previously. He was simply focusing on conjuring a blade that could cut through all shields, without focusing on the properties of the shield he wanted to break. Now that he knew what he required, creating the blade was easy. The Chaos was only too happy to lend him unlimited power from its reserves. He closed his eyes, shaping the mist.

"An Illusion Blade! An Illusionist! Albus! HOW in the seven hells did Harry Potter get to know about the forbidden arte?" Nicholas all but screeched.

"I didn't...I don't know how!" Albus managed to reply, equally mesmerized by the magic his student was trying to procreate.

Nicholas on the other hand, was silent. His mind was racing miles ahead.

Harry finally opened his eyes, only to see the magnificent blade levitating above him. With a cruel smirk, he propelled the blade forward.

Nicholas closed his eyes. He had already analyzed the shield enough to know it was a dark artifact. There was no point in watching it any further.

The blade moved, swathing through the air.

It struck the shield. A resounding gong, that shook the entire stadium.

A single crack became visible on the shield. It grew.

The shield shattered.

An explosion.

Augustin was bodily lifted and blasted away to the edge of the wall.

The duel was over.

* * *

An Illusionist. Harry fucking Potter was a damned Illusionist.

This changed things. Nicholas knew. As a former Master of the forbidden arte, he knew it well. Harry Potter could not have taught himself Illusory magicks; elemental or not.

Harry Potter had a Master. A Master of Illusory magicks.

Nicholas knew the rules. He _could not_ attack the apprentice of a fellow Master of the Forbidden arte, without the permission of the Master. Even if said apprentice was a damned elemental.

He needed to talk to Harry Potter. It was essential.

"Albus!" he finally remarked, "You will not ask any questions to Harry Potter about his performance, or his powers. Bring him to my Mansion, not before the next Sunday. I have some ... arrangements to do. It has been quite... enlightening, meeting you." Nicholas apparated away.

Albus Dumbledore heard a large crack somewhere in the air.

 _Must be him breaking through the anti-Apparation wards!_ He thought.

* * *

 **### And finally, I am done with the tournament! Well the aftermath is still left, but that's not the point. Pshew! The thought I that I would have to create an entire tournament from scratch was giving me creeps ever since I had the idea. How do you like my depiction of the tournament, and the duels? Reviews, please.**

 **### I would like this moment to state another thing too. When I started writing this fic, I wanted to bring Daphne Greengrass into the tale. But as you have read, Harry has been academically inclined throughout the year, what with the different magical arts and the developments and the Dementors all throughout the year. The idea that Harry would be romantically inclined to actually try to impress the Slytherin ice queen out of all people in the middle of all that, seemed a bit flimsy to me. Hence, the betrothal contract. I know its cliché, but I could not wait till 4** **th** **year, as I had Fleur Delacour waiting to be brought in.**

 **### Once again. Yes, this is a Harry/Daphne story, and yes, Fleur may/may not be a love interest. You shall see it in the later chapters. I hope I shall be able to surprise you somewhere down the tale soon, with what I have in mind. I hope the story is still pleasing to read, and thanks to you all for the generous reviews.**

 **Arcturus Peverell.**


	58. ROTS 14: Discussions and Paranoia

" **And the winner of the international dueling tournament of 1994 is HARRY POTERRRR!"**

The crowds roared madly, cheering in appreciation at the mesmerizing performance of their newest Champion. An entity, who was completely unknown in the dueling circuit, yet had bagged the trophy on his first venture.

Harry stood on the dueling platform, eyes closed; ears eating up on the sounds of his victory. His first victory in public. This was a victory by Harry Potter, not the Boy-who-lived. His first, of many victories. He waved his wand high, and a burst of dazzling white energy shot up, forming a large dragon who roared out, before fading into the air. Harry wove his wand above his head.

 _Calamitatis._

He disillusioned himself.

Harry walked down the stage. He could still hear the commentary going on, loud and clear. Not that he cared. The awarding ceremony would be held later, in the evening. And if he were honest with himself, he couldn't care less. He had come to participate here to test his skills at the international level. Now that he was satisfied, he knew it was time to take things up to a new different level.

Flitwick was still there, Harry thought to himself. The little Charms Professor had sponsored him. Let him bag off the entire gold. Harry couldn't care less. He had his vengeance, the shield was destroyed. Only one thing remained.

Fleur.

Harry walked into the gallery, where Fleur was sitting with her family. She was still healing from her injuries. He came up to her, and let the disillusionment charm fall.

"Fleur?"

Fleur looked up, as did her family, at Harry's sudden emergence with shock. "when did you come here?"

"Just now."

"oh."

"Fleur," Harry continued, "Care to take a walk with me?"

Fleur nodded.

He disillusioned them both. He liked being hidden. It was a tendency that he had developed in his early years at the Dursleys. The dark damp confines of the cupboard was always his solace. It was dark, true, but it meant safety to him. He always knew that Vernon Dursley was too large to step into the cupboard, thus he was safe.

Safe and hidden.

He dwelled on that same feeling of being hidden from everyone. He could feel that very well. It was one of the reasons he had so quickly mastered the Disillusionment charm.

It felt good to be invisible.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are we here? I mean, shouldn't you be celebrating your win?" Fleur asked.

"I don't care about the celebration. I cared about winning. I cared about breaking that abhorrent artifact Montague used as a shield. I accomplished both. Gold? I have more than I need. He defeated you unfairly. I got you your vengeance."

Fleur looked up at him. The disillusionment charm had faded moments ago. "You broke that shield for me?"

Harry did not reply.

"You knew I could not score against that shield. You knew I would lose. Is that why-" Fleur hesitated, "is that why you left the gallery during my duel?"

Harry stared at her. Expressionless.

 _How on earth did she figure that out?_

"Why are you staring at me?" Fleur demanded, a bit embarrassed.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Harry taunted.

"Oh hush you!" Fleur hit him on the shoulder.

 _Just like Daphne._

 _Daphne._

"Fleur! There is something I should tell you. I know I should have told you initially but I think I should-" he began.

"You wanted to let me know about Daphne, your betrothed." Fleur finished for him.

"How did you-Susan. She told you. Didn't she?" Harry inquired, a little anger seeping into his voice.

"No. I guessed. And I asked your godfather. Frankly, I don't understand what the entire commotion is about. It's not like I'm stealing you away or something." Fleur began.

"I think Susan thought that you had me wrapped around your little finger." Harry answered.

"Oh I would love to do that, wouldn't I?" she chortled with mirth, "But it is true, Harry, I do have feelings for you. And I know you know that. Else you wouldn't be trying to clear the air out."

Fleur held his hand. "I also know that you are a Lord of multiple houses, and can legally take more than one wife. I know all this is really fast and everything, but my magic seems to like you, and I cannot stop myself from doing the same."

Her lips came amazingly close to him as she tasted his dry lips. Stepping back instantly, she continued, "However that doesn't mean you have to do that. But never say never. So, we are meeting again for the Cup and then in Hogwarts for the tournament, I will be meeting you, your friends and your Daphne. I want to see that special person who is more special than me."

Fleur giggled. "and who knows, maybe Daphne and I may begin to like each other and decide to share you."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"But that is for later. It may happen, or it might not. The future is not set in stone. So for the moment Mister Potter, would you be my special friend?" Fleur winked.

 _Special friend?_

Harry shook her hand. "Deal." He smiled.

* * *

"Illusion Master's Guild. I demand an audience, immediately!" barged in an angry voice of Nicholas Flamel.

Within a few minutes, a series of popping sounds were heard. The portraits of dead Masters returned to their frames in the main hall. The Guild was in session.

Nicholas Flamel walked up to the center of the stage. Glancing at the people standing before him, masked in hoods; as well as the portraits hanging on the wall, he addressed to everyone.

"I, Nicholas Flamel, twenty-seventh master of the forbidden arte and Master Emeritus, demand two direct and honest answers from you all as is my right."

"Granted." A collective voice rang throughout the hall.

"First, who among you have taken an apprentice recently?"

Silence.

"I am rightfully demanding an answer. The consequences of hiding the truth will be detrimental, as you all know." He paused, "Now, for the final time I ask, who among you has taken up a new apprentice recently?"

"That would be me!" A strong voice rang across the hall, from the doorway. Everyone turned back to see something inexplicable. Salazar Slytherin, in his ghost form, drifted into the hall.

"Salazar?" Nicholas whispered, "is that really you?"

Salazar nodded to his master.

"I have answered your first question, Master Flamel. Please finish your quest for the session." He stated formally.

"Very well." Nicholas stood to his fullest height, and demanded, "I demand you to tell me his name."

It was protocol. No Illusion Master could force an answer out of another Master, especially when it came to apprentices. Any particular question of importance had to be asked out in the Guild sessions, that too, on a formal note. It was the law.

"Harrison Slytherin." Salazar answered back in a monotone.

"You mean Harry Potter I take it."

Salazar nodded.

Nicholas sighed. This was madness. Salazar was his brightest student, ever. Why on earth would Salazar accept an elemental of all things as his apprentice; Nicholas could not fathom.

"In remembrance of old times, let's have a small talk." Nicholas began.

"cut the dance, master Flamel. But you are right, let's go meet in private. Ask what you want to."

Good.

* * *

"Did you know that your heir, Harry Potter is an elemental?"

"yes."

"Then why?"

"Why take him as my apprentice? Because he has the potential, the power and the ingenuity to actually pull it off."

"You do know Salazar, as good as your art of misdirection is, you cannot fool me." Nicholas stated blandly.

Salazar sighed.

"Raise your favorite ward." He smirked.

Nicholas almost sniggered, but controlled his emotions. He raised a powerful privacy ward, one that was impossible to break.

"He is the prophesized one."

"And by prophecy you mean-"

"The 147th."

"And how do you know that He is the one?"

Salazar stared at his mentor, giving him a blank stare. One that sent a clear message, 'How can you ask me such a stupid question?

Nicholas blinked.

Silence.

"By magic Salazar, are you out of your bloody mind? What could have actually caused someone as sensible as you are, to touch the Prophecy orb?" He yelled out.

"I was almost destroyed the first time round. And then, I figured out the key to the Prophecy. It wasn't about me, as I had thought, but about my heir."

Nicholas conjured a glass of water.

"And how are you so certain about this?" Nicholas asked, taking his first drink from the glass.

"Harry summoned a creature of antiquity from the Chaos."

Nicholas's eyes popped out, spewing out the entire water over the floor. Salazar smirked.

"You just had to say that when I was drinking." He complained, before turning serious, "you are not joking about this, are you?"

"What do you think?" Salazar challenged.

"What creature was it?" Nicholas asked, now completely stunned by the events.

"A Quetzalcoatl. You do know the relevance of that, don't you?"

"The Peverells."

Salazar nodded.

"You should know; your apprentice has connected himself to the realms of the Chaos. He even demonstrated the Illusion Blade in public."

Salazar blanched. "He did WHAT?"

Nicholas smirked.

"I warned that brat not to use Illusions in public, but he just had to. Bloody show off!"

"it wasn't show off Sal. He used the blade to destroy a dark artifact."

"Please, tell me from the beginning."

"Let's return to my Mansion. Now that you are a ghost, and I wonder how; I sense we have a lot to discuss." Nicholas countered.

"Lead the way."

* * *

It was time for him to return back to Britain. He met with Filius, who seemed strangely subdued, quite a contrast from his normal bubbly self. Harry wondered if the Professor's current state was from the realization that he was much more skilled than he had let on to him. Collecting their trunks from the Potter cottage, he turned to his tutor.

"Professor? Everything all right?"

"No."

Harry let the bags fall to the ground. Perhaps he would have some explanation to do. He sighed.

"Ask what you want to, Professor."

Flitwick stared at his protégé. "Who are you?"

Harry sighed, He took his wand out and waved it over his head, "I swear by my life and magic that I am Harry james Potter, son of James and Lily Potter."

Flitwick deflated. "Then how are you so skilled? It is not possible. I mean, I know I have seen you master dueling skills this last year, but whatever you performed; I am simply blown away. Its boggling my mind. I could not perform what you did."

"professor, do you trust me? If not now, then did you trust me before coming here?"

Flitwick sighed, "I did."

 _So he doesn't trust me now. Fair enough._

"In that case, I am calling in that trust. Believe that I am not evil, or that I have taken to go down the dark path. I have my own secrets, and those are secret for a reason. When the time is appropriate, I shall let you know the full truth."

"Fair enough."

There was silence. "You know Harry; I did make a lot of gold by sponsoring you. Apart from your prize money which is obviously yours, there is a great deal of gold I made from this venture."

"So do you have my prize money, professor" Harry asked genially.

Flitwick nodded.

"Very well. I want that money spent in providing Hogwarts some dueling equipment. Perhaps Hogwarts could sponsor some more raw talent from now on, using that little nest."

"That is... very generous of you, Harry."

"I do not care for gold. I already have enough of it."

* * *

"So you mean to tell me that my heir, has not only been successful to extracting energy from the Chaos, but he is also capable of manipulating it?" Salazar almost thundered in disbelief.

"I would like to think I have the ability to point out spell personalization when I see it." Nicholas replied back coldly, "or did you forget that it was I that taught you that very same technique."

"forgive me Master, I got a little... carried away. But it is unbelievable. On our last meet, Harry wasn't even able to conjure a Patronus properly. I mean yes, he did conjure that elemental creature, and yes, I know he summoned that antiquity, but still... I have been making him progress very fast but this is... exemplary."

"True. Your thoughts?"

"I fear Harry has got himself some kind of teacher for his elemental abilities. I for one, did not teach him personalization. I had thought he was too young for that, yet."

"Salazar, he personalized a Patronus of all things."

"incredible."

"It is."

Silence.

"I have told Albus Dumbledore to bring him to my mansion. The old boy had come to me, in fear of the elemental within the boy. I admit my first reaction was to seek his imminent destruction."

"And now?" Salazar urged.

"Let me see what I can do."

"It is a request you do not mention anything about my presence in the boy's life to the Headmaster. Harry and I, do not trust him."

Nicholas nodded.

* * *

Alastor Moody was one paranoid Auror. A Master Auror during the war, Alastor had been one of those who had actually made a difference in the last war. He and his band of merry men- James Potter, Sirius Black, Frank LongBottom, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Amelia Bones and the Prewett Brothers; an outstanding team if there ever was. That single Auror team had captured more than sixty percent of the death eaters. It was a disaster that so many of their hard caught criminals had escaped justice by donating money to the minister's personal fund.

All his efforts, down the drain, because he never knew who the mole was in the ministry that always leaked out the news. The criminals were set free, bribes were accepted, and everyone was happy.

And people called him paranoid.

Now though, he was retired. Only answering his call at times when called for at the ministry, or when teaching the new recruits at the Auror Academy.

How boring.

The new recruits were pathetic, with only a couple of them being somewhat good enough. Not enough for him though. When Alastor said that they were good enough, he meant that they could go for Auror missions and not return with their heads chopped off. Blasted recruits.

There was this one recruit though, Nymphadora. Nymphadora Tonks. Funny name. No doubt the lass hated it. But she was good. And she was a metamorphmagus. Funny, indeed.

And now, Albus bloody Dumbledore had hired Alastor for teaching his little puny kids.

Albus was barmy.

Bah! Which idiot taught children! Nasty little buggers!

Alastor Moody taught Aurors, people who knew how to cast spells. Not little blighters who did not know one end of the wand from the other.

Hence, Albus was barmy.

There was a knock on the door. His electric blue eye swam past as he looked at his sneakoscope and his foeglass. It showed a shadow.

 _An unknown foe outside?_

Alastor held out his wand.

He tried to apparate out. Nothing happened.

Damn anti-Apparation wards.

Raising his wand, he opened the door, ready to curse the ones standing outside.

No one. He looked down. A baby in a cot?

 _What is this?_

He turned the baby's face towards himself.

 _What is all-_

The frightening red eyes shone at him, barging into his Occlumency shields, as Moody cried out in pain. A crack occurred behind him. Before Alastor could help himself, a sharp stunner hit him from behind.

* * *

 **### next stop, the Quidditch Cup. Reviews, everyone!**


	59. ROTS 15: rituals and chaos

" **It has been almost seven days that Harry has been to Paris. And I don't even know how to contact him. That idiot didn't even send me a letter, but now that I think of it, maybe he is busy at the tournament or something. I miss you Harry, please return soon.**

 **Dad has been so annoying about the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently it will be held in Britain this year, and Dad has got tickets ready, including one for Harry. That sod has almost become family. I wonder if he has somehow confounded Astoria or something, what with the way she always chooses his side whenever there is a match. Maybe he gets her chocolates.**

 **Damn cheater!**

 **I wish I could know what was happening in Paris, right now. Dad and mum are busy; nobody I can go to Paris with. Lucky Susan! She went away with Sirius. And I'm left all alone. Grand aunty keeps me busy with the healing studies, sure, but still...**

 **Argghhhh! I am irritated now!**

 **Okay this is for tonight. Good night Diary!"**

Daphne closed her diary and dozed off to sleep.

The next day, she woke up to find a letter on her bed, addressed to her.

It was from Susan.

She opened the letter and began to read.

 **Dear Daphne,**

 **I hope you are well. Harry here is winning the matches spectacularly. As of now, he is in the semifinals and tomorrow will be his duels as well as the finals if he is successful. I believe he will easily win the tournament. We both know that.**

 **Daph, there is another thing I wish to tell you about. There is this girl, her name is Fleur Delacour. She looks a bit older and is a Veela. Her dad is the head of French DMLE. She is also here for the tournament and Harry is spending an awful lot of time with her. Just thought you should know. I know he is a Lord of multiple houses and can legally marry more than one and all that, but perhaps you should consider the happenings. Harry insists that he is immune to that Veela's allure but I do not believe it. You remember how your dad and my uncle had started behaving strangely when we had been to Bulgaria for the Quidditch Cup three years ago? Just like the stories we had read about the Veela tales. I fear the same is happening to Harry.**

 **We leave for Britain day after tomorrow. Aunty wanted to do some shopping and hence, the delay. Please do not tell Harry that I told you all this. He is already angry at me, because I had been a bit cold to Fleur initially.**

 **Love,**

 **Susan.**

Daphne folded the letter and kept it inside her drawer. This wasn't happening. If Harry was entranced by the Veela as Susan had written, then he would, in all probability, marry her too, and he would be legally right to do so. It was Pureblood protocol. She had even resigned herself for such a fate before her third year, that she would someday be some lord's wife and have to share him with another woman. She knew enough about the high-society ladies. Reduced to a trophy wife, they would live the rest of their lives alone in the grand mansion, while their husbands would spend time with others, or perhaps their favorite wives. Somehow, Daphne knew that a fate similar to that could also strike her.

Then, Harry entered her life. The betrothal contract. It changed everything. She fell in love. She had started to see dreams of them together, and it was almost becoming true. The two weeks this summer that Harry had spent with her had been heaven. She had enjoyed every second of it.

But now, that Veela was trying to entrance him. Veela were goddesses of seduction, she knew. While Daphne knew that she was quite attractive and beautiful, but she wasn't by any standards, comparable to a Veela. Her dream of a future with Harry, and a lovely life was now misty, and a new presence had entered into it, and Daphne could do nothing about it.

Or could she?

Perhaps she needed to talk to Harry. Perhaps if she was more enticing to him then-

Daphne got off her bed. There was work to do.

* * *

Harry apparated to his manor on Monday evening. They had used the international portkey to travel back to Britain, and from there, he and Flitwick had diverged away. He had just arrived into the Manor when Nidhogg hissed loudly in his mind.

 _What's wrong with you? Why are you so sassy since the final match?_

" _Because you are not you."_

 _Okay that is Dumbledore-speak. Please, talk in English._

Nidhogg hissed further.

 _All right, I understand. You only hiss. Fine, apologies, Parseltongue then?_

" _You accessed the forbidden energies of the Chaos during the final duel._

 _What nonsense?_

Nidhogg hissed in fury.

 _Okay fine. Please explain in detail._

" _Don't tell me you don't remember how vengeance took over you. Don't tell me that you did not feel giddy at the thought of casting that illusion blade."_

 _Okay, I admit it felt unnaturally great. What about it?_

" _Tell me, young sorcerer. Have you ever felt so giddy about using powerful magic before?"_

Harry thought for a moment.

 _No._

" _Do you remember how it felt, casting all that powerful magick on the shield?"_

 _It felt great._

" _And what normally happens when you cast powerful magick?"_

 _I feel tired. But that- oh!_

" _You were under the illusion cast by the Chaos. It was good that your mind is so iron-clad, else I was fearing you would summon hell fire."_

 _Fiendfyre?_

" _Wizards and their stupid names. Yes, Fiendfyre."_

 _Are you crazy? Why would I cast Fiendfyre? Salazar has explained to me all about it._

 _Your mentor had also explained you about not using illusions in public._

 _But that shield-_

" _Don't tell me you could not break that shield without casting that blade."_

 _Crap._

 _But Hang on, how do you know about what Salazar taught me? You weren't in my head then._

 _Nidhogg gave a mental sigh. "I am a part of you. I am you. Whatever you know, I know. And when the reverse is true, you can become me too."_

 _Wait, what does that mean?_

Silence.

 _Nidhogg?_

No answer.

 _Bloody infernal creature._

* * *

"And this is how you synch your aura with that of your patient. It temporarily lets you feel your patient's suffering, and helps you do your diagnosis much more effectively." Madam Leona explained. She was a retired mind healer who used to work at Saint Mungo's, and was a friend of Daphne's aunt. On hearing that the young Greengrass had a branching magical aura, she had gladly acquiesced to provide private instruction.

"We shall leave it till here for the day. I will not be here until next week, so I want you to practice whatever you have learnt so far. Practice makes Perfect." The elder woman began packing her bags.

There was a loud knock on the door.

"You go and attend to your guest. I will go and have a talk with Viridian." Madam Leona advised.

Daphne walked up to the door and opened it wide. A large bouquet of roses stood at the edge of her nose. She hastily pulled the bouquet away, only to reveal the grinning face of her betrothed behind the bouquet.

"Harry!" she screamed in delight, as she hugged him tightly. After a moment, she looked back at him and kissed him hard. After a minute of their tongues fighting amongst each other, she stepped back and welcomed him in.

"Is that going to be a regular welcome for me whenever I come here?"

"Let's not be so hasty Mister Potter," Daphne said, wagging her fingers, "come sit. How was your tournament?"

Harry put his hand inside his robes, and brought out, what seemed like a small iron key. He waved his wand over it and it changed into the Dueling Trophy.

"You WON!" Daphne screamed in happiness, as she slammed into him, kissing him for all it was worth. When she stepped back, his face had a shit eating grin on it.

"you know, I might have some more good news, if I am getting more of those." Harry grinned.

"Not so easy, Mr. Potter," Daphne replied playfully. "Let's go to my room. And then, you shall spill all the details." She left for her room, a spring in her every step.

Harry watched her go with a smile.

"When in Rome... do as Romans do!" He whispered to himself, as he followed her.

* * *

Hermione Granger was in heaven, or at least, what she imagined heaven to be like. Ever since the summer holidays had started, she was having a gala time. She did not return back to her parents, despite they having come to the station to pick her up. She had walked past them, as if they weren't there at all. Indifference was indeed a powerful retaliation; she had seen Harry wield indifference over her way too much to not realize its power.

She had returned to Knockturn Alley, straight to Borgin and Burkes. Her true benefactor, her solace and her answer to the questions that had kept on bugging her mind. Mister Borgin was all too pleased to see her. He even allowed her to take up the room next to the storage without any rent, telling her that she could use the miniature library to her heart's content. In return, she would be taking over the entire book-keeping without pay. Hermione was only too happy to agree to that.

The last two months had been a blessing for her. From her research, she had been able to figure out two rituals which would augment her magical powers, especially in Charms and Offensive magic. She had already performed a blood ritual, one that had increased her physical rejuvenation powers. The one-week coma had been even worth the long term benefits.

The best things about sacrificial magick was its omnipotence. A practitioner of sacrificial magick could technically attain anything and everything, provided that she was ready to sacrifice what was required. It was remarkably simple- it was like muggle chemistry, the law of conservation. Energy and powers gained equaled the sacrifices. Sometimes the sacrifices were ingredients, sometimes they were her own body parts.

There was this ritual in which she would have to sacrifice her virginity to a goblin on full moon. There was more to the ritual, but that was basically the important part. The sacrifice would provide her an affinity for goblin magic, which was mostly wandless in nature. She would of course, have to learn the spells and everything, but yes, she would have the wandless ability. Hermione had decided that it was too early to attempt something like that, at least for the moment.

She had acquired a book on curse breaking from Borgin, and had begun learning it. Borgin had even promised her practical experience since he regularly dealt with cursed goods. He had informed her that if she was good at the art, she might be able to make a good amount of money by working for the black market of Knockturn Alley. Hermione had been thrilled at the prospect of earning money.

Ritual Magic was arithmantic, and had a huge focus on the number seven. Had Hermione ever studied Arithmancy, she would have known better than conduct her second ritual. For with her second ritual, a vicious cycle had started. Her magic would now crave for more, and more, until she was done with seven rituals. Seven, the number of power and stability. And Merlin forbid if she ever progressed to her eighth, it would be a nightmare. She wouldn't be able to stop at fourteen, for magic took numbers differently. Her next solace would be at seven-sevens, that is to say, forty-nine rituals. At the end of which, she would not remain the same, not even human.

Either she would be a Goddess.

Or.

An abomination. A scourge upon the earth.

* * *

 **### reviews please.**


	60. ROTS 16: Desires

**###AUTHOR NOTE: I was away for a family tour to a couple of places, and was away from my PC and internet connectivity since the last 4 days. Gave me the time for a fresh breath of air. Well, now that I am back, I can continue posting my updates with renewed vigor (assuming that I lost some of the vigor, which I don't think so). So for the dear reviewers who had expressed their concern, there is no way I'm burning out, fire elemental or not.**

 **## I am bloody pleased by the support and positive reviews. Since this is my first attempt at writing a HP fanfiction, it is very endearing to see so many readers praise my work. As I write this line, I should mention that the poll on my profile is likely going to vanish off by tonight, perhaps being replaced by another new poll. So to all readers who have not yet polled in, please do!**

 **## I have been flooded with PMs asking for the importance of the Fleur and/or Hermione Characters. As the tale has shown so far, Fleur might be a love interest to Harry. But this is not a Harry- Multi! (well not in the truest sense of the term). There was a hint of a spoiler in case it wasn't obvious. As for Hermione, I have previously stated in my previous AN's that Hermione and Daphne are like 2 polar opposites, and the character is heavily influenced from Morgana Pendragon of the Merlin TV show.**

 **## Finally, a spoiler alert for those that have almost exuberantly stated their concern about the fate of Hermione character. I can just say, Harry is her destiny and he is her doom! (wink!)**

 **## Reviews, my muse wants more reviews!**

* * *

 **GREENGRASS MANOR.**

The shrieks could be heard from the lush green fields outside the manor. If one could peep inside, they could see a scantily clad Daphne running around, shrieking in delight while Harry, only in his boxers, ran close behind, chasing his betrothed. Cyrus and Victoria had been away with Astoria, for a new muggle movie in London, while Harry and Daphne had chosen to stay behind. After spending some precious time snogging each other breathless, Daphne had been the one to suggest that they should go swimming. Being an active fire elemental, swimming was not one of Harry's top five fun activities, but the thought of swimming in unison with his scantily clad betrothed seemed to provide a rather exuberant reason for Harry not to indulge in the exercise.

They had retired to the pool inside the manor grounds and Daphne had hurried away to change into a swimming outfit. Harry had quickly changed, with his boxers being the only thing on him, as he had sat down on the edges of the pool, waiting for his betrothed to arrive. It was with a gazed look that he met Daphne when she arrived in her two-piece outfit, clearly nature had been very endowing to her, just the right amount in the right places. Harry wondered how bloody lucky he was to have such a goddess all to himself. With a shit eating grin, he had walked up to his betrothed.

Daphne had been standing in her two-piece, shying away from Harry's eyes by looking down on the marble floor. She felt Harry walkup to her and hold her shoulder, a shivering sensation shooting through her as a hailstorm of repressed emotions sprung out of her. She pressed her soft supple body against his, kissing him for what it was worth. Harry felt her assets press into him as he spooned her up front and kissed her deeply.

After wait seemed like eternity, Daphne looked up at Harry to see him completely gazed. "Did I do that to him?" she couldn't help but wonder.

I wonder if I could...

A sly smile flitted across her angelic face as she pressed herself closer to him, pushing him backwards. Harry complied without complain, he was all too eager to oblige whatever his betrothed wanted of him. They moved back step until Daphne stopped her forward strides, and looked up, stopping her kiss.

"You know..." she purred, "I want to try something I have never tried with you before."

"Uh huh, like what?" Harry groaned, still in ecstasy.

"This." She looked up with a sly grin and pushed Harry back.

"wha- hey no no no!"

Splash.

He fell head first into the pool.

Daphne stood on the edge of the pool, laughing her heart out, clutching her stomach in a hopeless attempt to control herself, failingly terribly as she watched Harry stand in the pool, completely drenched, scowling at her.

"You cheeky minx! I will get you for that!"

Wagging her fingers with a denying gesture, Daphne replied, "Ah-ah-ah! Mr. Potter, you should not make promises you can't hold on to." She pointed at his wand lying on the couch, at least ten metres away from him. Daphne smirked, her slim hands at her waist, striking an enticing sight for the young sorcerer.

Harry smirked. He raised his left hand and wandlessly accio'ed Daphne who was pulled into the pool with a mighty shriek, right on to her betrothed. Harry had not thought of Daphne's weight when he had pulled her in, and what happened as a result was that she crashed into him, as they both tumbled into the pool, his head almost sticking to her breasts, as they found themselves entangled among the rubber duckies that lay floating in the pool.

'Ooh! Quite forward of you, Mr. Potter. Almost snaking your way in!" Daphne smirked. Harry on his part, was completely red with embarrassment as he managed to step apart from her.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Miss Greengrass?" Harry came up close to her, their drenched bodies sticking to each other,

"Of course, that is why I think this is fun." Daphne splashed a jet of water on Harry's face, throwing him off. She quickly climbed up from the pool, and still in her drenched two-piece, gave a runner.

"I will catch you, you minx! Just you wait!" Harry yelled in exasperation, as he gave chase.

* * *

After almost twenty minutes of the cat and mouse chase, Harry had managed to corner Daphne and then hold her firmly at the wait, not that he wasn't enticed to oblivion by her supple skin, something that Daphne had used quite often in her attempt to escape out of Harry's clutches. She thought that now that they had touched each other, and quite a lot in ways more than one, it was a signal that were already much more comfortable in their relationship.

 _My first move against the Veela._

She settled into the warm cuddles that Harry gave her, as he spooned her from behind.

"You give?" He asked, panting.

"Uh-Huh!" Daphne replied, panting too.

"I caught you..." Harry panted, turning her back to face him.

"You caught me!" She whispered into his ear, as they embraced each other into a rather heated snog.

* * *

They were snuggling amidst the warm covers inside Daphne's room, talking to each other. There was a knocking sound at the window, and Daphne got up to find that it was the post owl, delivering the day's paper.

She took the Daily prophet and retired back to the warm cushion that her betrothed's rather hunky body provided her. Ensuring that she was properly spooned in, she opened the newspaper.

The headline was about Harry.

She looked at him and sent him a dry smirk. Harry gave a long suffering sigh as he nudged her to shift the page a little up, so that he could read them too.

"Uh huh? Bad idea." Daphne purred, "You focus on making me warm, I will read the news aloud to you."

Harry happily obliged, as Daphne began reading.

 **HARRY POTTER WINS THE INTERNATIONAL DUELLING TOURNAMENT**

 **Harry Potter, aged fourteen, our dear own Boy-who-lived, participated for the first time in the International Dueling Tournament hosted in France this year. Not only did he perform a spectacular dueling throughout the event, he even managed to defeat the defending champion of the previous two years, Mr. Augustin Montague, in what could be termed as a duel worthy between two dueling gods. Yes, my readers, our own Harry Potter has indeed won the under-19 Dueling Champions Trophy, securing his position as the most accomplished dueler in Europe.**

Daphne looked up from the paper, as she turned left to kiss Harry, a rather soft sensual kiss, before she turned back to read. There were photographs taken during many aspects of Harry's duels throughout the tournament. His rather spectacular technique of jumping high up and firing a Patronus from above towards a rather confused Claire below took most of the front page. Daphne could not but be so proud of her betrothed.

 **Harry Potter, aged fourteen, demonstrated quite a number of unseen and obscure magicks and battle techniques during the entire event. His rather stunning display of dueling techniques were the stuff of legends. Ranging from his rather casual use of the Patronus, to dramatic weaving movements, dodging through hailstorms of spells, to his conjuring of that magnificent blade that tore into Mr. Montague's supposedly unbreakable shield, the spectators throughout the world that had attended the tournament had nothing nut high praises for our young champion.**

 **Harry Potter's skills have become the talk of the entire Europe. How a fourteen-year-old could demonstrate such unwavering magical potency and strength, is the chief cause of gossip, concern, research for people, Unspeakables and conspiracy theorists alike.**

 **A rather well known gentleman from the French Ministry, who decided to remain anonymous, has expressed his rather sordid thoughts about the possibility of the young Potter to have resorted to dark rituals amongst other things, in order to acquire that outstanding prowess. We also heard a group of conspiracy theorists that stated that Potter was actually Lord You-know-who in disguise. Another went on to speak of Potter's prowess in golden words, theorizing that it was perhaps that Potter was so innately powerful, that he managed to off You-know-who at just one-year-old. What is correct and what is not, remains to be seen.**

"So I have Voldemort-in-disguise trying to get all close and cuddly with me?" Daphne mocked.

"You never knew." Harry let off a sly smile as he cuddled her closer.

"Oh!" Daphne's eyes glinted with amusement, "and why so?"

"Because he is trying to do this." Harry ended, tickling Daphne's sides, making her squirm, as she tried to get off him, failing dismally every time as she landed in the throes of more tickling and laughter.

"Harry stop it!" Daphne screamed, her hands still trying to hold Harry back who was busy relentlessly tickling her stomach now, as Daphne tried to wrestle against him, only to get more entangled with him inside the covers of the bed. She never noticed when Harry's hand had come over her rather sumptuous buttocks.

"Hands off, Potter." She mock scowled at him. Harry gingerly took his hands off her arse, and then spooned her back.

She turned back towards the paper and began to read.

 **Interesting turn of events came into light when Mr. Montague's broken shield was later on inspected by the judges, and revealed to be a dark artifact, that was essentially a family heirloom, and had this innate property to intake any magical energy into it, strengthening itself. The beauty of the artifact was that it could be manifested into existence using a family spell. Since use of any artifacts all except a wand is considered illegitimate, Augustin Montague was further charged with fraud and his previous championship trophies were taken back from him. He has also been rendered as illegible for future participation in the tournament. The judges and tournament organizers also said that they would be calculating the points of the other participants and then award them their rightful winnings. As of this tournament, Fleur Delacour, aged sixteen, now about to begin her sixth year at Beauxbatons Academy, and the elder daughter of Sebastian Delacour, Head of French DMLE was placed second by the judges.**

A rather attractive photo of Fleur during one of her duels was right next to the paragraph.

 _So this is Fleur Delacour._

Daphne read on, " **our sources at the dueling event did notice a rather warm relationship between the Boy-who-lived and Fleur Delacour. Harry Potter seems to be quite taken with the young and enticing Miss Delacour. Does this mean that the boy-who-lived is off the market? The sixteen-year-old Veela, it seems, already has her clutches on Harry-"** Daphne stopped reading and looked at Harry with a curious expression, **"Potter."**

Harry looked up at her face, and he knew that there were some explanations to be made.

"What are you thinking, Daph?" he asked softly as he sat up, still spooning her from behind. Daphne inclined her head to a side, letting her neck exposed. Harry kissed her neck, as she sighed.

"What must I think Harry? You came home, you told me that you won and then we spent so much time being intimate. "Daphne spoke out softly, "and now, I have to find out from the bloody newspaper that my betrothed has been seen getting too intimate with a Veela of all people. What am I supposed to think?"

"Daph, it's not what you think." Harry tried.

 _This is going to be difficult._

Daphne sat up straight, still in her two-piece suit, and shifted away from her betrothed. She immediately felt the loss of warmth but there was this discussion she could not avoid.

"What am I supposed to think, Harry?" Daphne began, her voice extraordinarily slow and sad, making Harry wrench up with guilt all over. "I always knew that I will be a pureblood trophy wife for some upstart pureblood, who will only use me for his sexual desires, and for accompanying him to social events. I knew that romance and affection would never be a part of my life. That realization made me create this emotionless mask that kept me safe from other's attempts, and as cold as it was, I stayed safe from any emotional turmoil."

She looked at Harry in the eye.

"then, you came along. You broke through my mask, you made me like you, you made me love you, you made me... want you. And now, you go in to be cozy with this Veela and I'm reduced back to what I always feared. An object of your carnal desires, left at your Manor to be relished and enjoyed at your service, while you-"

"DAPHNE!" Harry yelled, making her fall silent.

"What the hell are you talking about? Have you lost your bloody mind?" Harry shouted out, exasperated. "I was thinking that you would perhaps be a bit angry at me for spending some time with Fleur but this." He looked at her pointedly, as he continued, "What led you to think about this?"

Daphne looked away.

Harry moved towards her and shook her firmly. "Look into my eyes."

He could see the tears in her flustered eyes.

He gripped her hard and hugged her tight, not letting her go despite her half-hearted attempts. "Daphne, please do not ever think like that. Did you know that Fleur already knows about you? That you are my betrothed?"

Daphne looked up at him, confusion predominant on her face.

Harry sighed. He pulled her close to him, and embraced her from behind. Daphne allowed him to. Harry sighed as he rested his head on the wall behind, as he began.

"Fleur, she is a kindred spirit to mine. Just like I was treated as a hero one week, and a deranged sociopath the next, Fleur has been the object of society's prejudices throughout her life. I do not know it all, but she has this thing about her, the allure," Daphne nodded in acceptance that she knew what the allure was, and Harry continued, "she is like a very innocent creature, striving to retain her innocence in a world that is completely prejudiced by her. She tried to control her allure and keep it at the barest minimum, but still the bigots at her school try to shove themselves upon her." Daphne raised her eyebrows as Harry explained.

"They kind of, try to force themselves upon her." He gave her a pointed look and Daphne nodded. "But interestingly, I am completely immune to her allure. I don't know why or how, but Sirius or Amelia can vouch for me if you want."

Daphne raised her finger on Harry's lips, "I believe you."

"We did spend some time together, and also there is something I should tell you"

Daphne nodded.

Harry took a long breath.

"Fleur has feelings for me."

Daphne moved away from his embrace and jumped off the bed, walking towards the wardrobe.

 _Fuck._

* * *

"Hermione, please come into the study."

Hermione walked into Mr. Borgin's study, ready for whatever task Mr. Borgin wanted her to do. They had become quite familiar to each other, and Mr. Borgin had begun to call her by her name. While he was quite stern and quite... slippery in his dealings, he had become quite warm in dealing with her.

"I want you to do a job for me. If you can, I promise I will give you thirty percent of the earnings. Hermione's eyes blanches. Thirty Percent? She knew from the accounts that most of Mr. Borgin's transactions were in four digit monetary figures. Thirty Percent meant quite a lot and frankly, she did not think that she would be able to earn that much money if she worked as the bookkeeper throughout the year.

Hermione nodded. Keeping the curiosity out of her voice, she asked quite nonchalantly, "What do you need?"

"Have you heard of the Montague family?"

"Wasn't he the defending champion at the dueling tournament this year? I think I saw the name in the Prophet?" Hermione had seen the newspaper, about how Harry had won it, a thought that had produced a mental welt on Hermione's pride.

"Augustin Montague, Yes. But anything about the family?"

Hermione nodded in denial.

"The Montague family," Borgin began, "is one of the Ancient and Noble families of France. Augustin Montague is the heir. He has been using this unbreakable shield, a dark artifact as is in the news. The family will of course, be wanting to avoid any legal prosecution, and wanting to sell off some more dark artifacts that they might have horded. What you need to do is to convince them to sell me everything, and make sure that the entire transaction happens within a hundred thousand galleons. I will write out a cheque and you can hand it over. My sources say that the artifacts they have, should sell for at least two hundred thousand galleons. You need to convince them _, by any way possible_ , to make sure that we get the entire thing. If you are successful, I can make a profit of over a hundred and fifty thousand out of the deal, and shall we say, fifty thousand galleons go in to your account, a thousand up or down, including a couple of artifacts or tomes of your choice for free."

Hermione looked at her employer in shock. Fifty thousand galleons? She could buy herself a decent flat and still live off for a year with that kind of money. Besides, the artifacts and tomes that she would get her hands on, the entire deal was too irresistible. She knew that this was a give or take offer, and not one she could get every day. At the same time, she knew what Borgin was asking of her. When he meant _anything_ , he did imply _anything. She would have to resort to anything if it meant cracking the deal._

Hermione smiled. "When do I leave?"


	61. ROTS 17: Meeting Flamel

"We did spend some time together, and also there is something I should tell you"

Daphne nodded.

Harry took a long breath.

"Fleur has feelings for me."

Daphne moved away from his embrace and jumped off the bed, walking towards the wardrobe.

 _Fuck._

* * *

"Daphne? Daphne?" Harry tried consistently, but Daphne would just not listen to him, or reply to his voice. She was busy in packing up her dresses, putting them back to proper folds, and then putting them back to the wardrobe. It simply didn't matter how much Harry called, Daphne would just not listen.

Harry finally grew over exasperated at the futility of his attempts, and held Daphne firmly by her shoulders. She tried to fight her way out but Harry's grip proved too strong for her.

"Let me go." She gritted her teeth in anger.

"Not until we have cleared the air between us." Harry insisted.

Daphne's angry look was suddenly gone, to be replaced by a cold sneer, "Why Lord Slytherin, showing your pureblood dominance over me already? I suppose you will now order me to come to your bed and entertain your carnal desires too."

"Shut up Daphne! What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you girls so god-damned irrational?" Harry yelled. Then, composing himself, he continued in a soothing voice, "at least let me explain the situation, and then you are free to decide what you wish. You very well know that the betrothal is iron clad, so there is no getting out of it. But if you still deem me guilty, I will accept any punishment you deem fit."

Daphne's sneer faded away. "FINE!" she hissed. "FINE! Tell me your excuse, I will do that favor to you too."

'Thanks!" Harry almost grit his teeth in an aggravated manner. Pointing towards the bed, "Shall we sit?"

"Right here is fine!" Daphne replied back coldly.

Harry sighed. "Very well."

"You do remember that a Patronus is a representation of the happiest thoughts of a person, and that the animal it forms shares a similarity with the person who is the source of the happy feelings?"

"Yes," came the stiff reply.

Harry nodded, and raised his wand up, "Expecto Patronum."

A large ethereal wolf burst out of the wand. Harry looked at the animal and ordered, "Attack her", he said, pointing to Daphne.

Daphne was stupefied by Harry's actions. She was about to raise her wand and defend herself but to her surprise, the Patronus stood still. Harry raised his wand again and ordered the Patronus to attack her.

No movement.

Harry tried again.

This time, the wolf walked towards Daphne, and then nuzzled her legs with its wet nose, reminiscent of a puppy. She sat down and caressed the ethereal creature.

"Why doesn't it attack me?" she asked, her voice curious.

"Because you are the source of its power and form, which makes you my-"

"Source of your happiest memories." Daphne finished for him, realizing what it meant. If she was the source of his happiest memories and feelings, then that must be because he truly loved her.

"If that is not enough proof of my sincerity towards you, then I do not know what is." Harry ended, and walked out of the room, leaving a crestfallen Daphne behind.

* * *

Harry stood inside the dueling chamber in the Greengrass Manor. He was silent, deadly silent and the anger was rising through him in waves. He simply could not believe that Daphne of all people, would mistrust him and his feelings. It was like second year all over again. The energy inside his elemental core hissed and frothed, willing and demanding an exit out, as Harry tightly reigned over his anger.

He uplifted his right hand and cupped it. Willing his fire to escape out, he let the energy out. The raw crimson flames almost drifted out of his palm, caressing his fingers as they rose. The fire transmuted into the form of a fiery dragon that roared in anger, as it tried to escape while Harry kept it staying within his palm's periphery. It was an anger management technique he had developed with Nidhogg's help, and it was really useful in situations when he let his anger get the better of him.

" _Young Sorcerer?"_

 _Say Nidhogg._

" _You do know that your mate is crying."_

 _I know. I tried. She is being irrational._

" _So are you."_

 _What do you mean?_ Harry hissed back angrily in his mind.

" _You let her feel that sadness. It is obvious that she needs a sounding board for all of her worries. Since she trusts you supremely, she used you for the same. And you do know that."_

Harry chortled. "I am being stupid, aren't I?"

"Yes you are," came Daphne's voice from the background.

Harry turned back and found a crying Daphne rushing into his arms. She hugged him tightly as she cried her heart out, letting out her inner turmoil escape out from within. Harry was her solace and she would never give up on him.

"I'm sorry. I know I said a lot of bad things to you that I shouldn't have said. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just wanted you to understand how hurt I was."

Harry kissed her forehead, and hugged her back.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked.

"I do."

"Don't you want to know what I wanted to say about Fleur?"

"I don't. I am happy to be with you. Everything else, I will handle it as it comes. I know that you love me, and that is the most important thing." Daphne cried into his chest.

Harry stayed silent, just hugged her back firmly.

 _Nidhogg?_

" _yes, young sorcerer?"_

 _Thanks._

* * *

Hermione opened her favorite tome from her trunk. She had managed to somehow sneak out Secrets of the darkest Art out of Hogwarts, and was now deeply immersed into its writings. The pages contained forbidden knowledge, arcane rituals and horrors so terrifying and yet, so magnificent and powerful, that for a moment Hermione felt that she knew absolutely nothing. This humble realization that she was just like a child playing with some water on a seashore while the great ocean lay undiscovered by her, had a greatly numbing effect on her. She knew that for the task she had been handed with, there was a very great chance that she would probably have to sacrifice her virginity. A year ago, Hermione would simply have run away in disgust and terror, but now, her viewpoint of the world had changed. Physical desires, sexuality no longer was of high priority for her. That place had been taken away by her sharp mind and her will to grasp the forbidden knowledge for herself. At this moment, Hermione was peering through the pages of the tome, searching for rituals that she could use to augment her magical reserves more and more.

Turning to one of the more obscure pages, she came across a ritual that could positively help her. With a smirk, she took a piece of parchment and ink and started writing everything down. She had a job to do after all.

* * *

Harry was back in his family manor, reading from his family library. The Potters it seemed, where not so light as the Weasleys, Dumbledore and in general, the wizarding public pretended they were. In fact, the Potters had descended from the Peverells, who were renowned necromancers of their era. Necromancy, in essence, was classified as the extremes of the dark arts. When the Peverells changed their names to Potters, there were two important reasons for the name change.

First, they wanted to appear less dark in terms of the then Wizengamot policies, and second and perhaps the most important reason, the Peverell family totem, the Quetzalcoatl had stopped responding to the then and upcoming Lords of Peverell. The theory was that the three legendary Peverell brothers- Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus had been masters of the art of combining necromancy with reality distortion and had somehow created three artifacts that had the essence of death merged into them. For some reason, the family totem had stopped responding after the death of the three brothers, and the myth was that those three artifacts, that is- the elder wand, the resurrection stone, and the cloak of invisibility, together known as the deathly hallows were the reason.

 _Deathly Hallows... didn't Viridian also use the word 'Hallows'? Are they the same thing?_

Harry turned the page to read on.

 **The family myth goes on to say that only the true descendant of the Peverells will be able to take up the Peverell lordship, a prestigious position, not only politically, but also magically. After all, the Peverells were one of the origin families of the magical world. The one to unite the hallows would be chosen as the proper descendant and only if said person took up the Peverell ring, the Quetzalcoatl would respond to his call.**

Harry thought hard on what he had just read.

 _Nidhogg?_

" _No I am not the Peverell family totem, stupid sorcerer."_

Harry chuckled.

 _You did not even let me finish. I wanted to know if you knew anything about family totems._

Nidhogg sent him a mental expression of denial.

 _Very well._

Harry continued to read.

 **The three artifacts, namely the elder wand, a wand that was crafted by Antioch and always cast true for its owner, is the first of it. Being able to access the energy from the Chaos, the elder wand could perform any spell. All that was required was the presence of a correct person to hold it. Antioch is said to have fixed its allegiance to the Peverell blood, and the myth says that it shall only work true for a Peverell descendant. Across the centuries, many of our blood have sought out the wand, only to fail dismally. The wand, even though has its bloody trail embittered through the pages of history, has stayed away from our reach.**

 **The next artifact, the Resurrection stone, is the most complicated artifact ever to be created. Holding the essence of death, the stone could offer a direct connection the lost souls that have been lost to our family, although for some reason, the three brothers could never be summoned through the stone. The reason is unknown. It was during the war with Emeric the evil, that the stone was stolen away from the family, and has never been seen ever since.**

 **The third artifact, the cloak of invisibility is perhaps the least powerful of them all. A cloak that masks magic, masks the magical signature of its wearer across space and time, hiding its wearer from death himself should the wearer hold on to it. The cloak that has always been there, never suffering any wear and tear, and yet providing impenetrable invisibility, the cloak that is the Potter family heirloom, is the third of the Deathly Hallows.**

 **The three hallows, united together, is supposed to make a person the master of death; although that is mostly a myth. Older manuscripts indicate that something would obviously happen should the three artifacts be brought together and an incantation be chanted. Records just state that the one of Peverell blood who can reunite the Hallows shall be cause for the Peverell totem to reappear.**

 **It was after two decades of the Peverell totem's disappearance that the name was changed to Potter and a new family totem, the gryffin manifested itself. Ever since then, the griffin has served our family well. History says that the Potter family has always had a good mental connection to gryffins, which explains the griffins that still reside in the Potter woods.**

 _I have real gryffins in the woods?_

Harry further inquired into the genealogy of his family and he was honestly surprised by what he saw. Charlus Potter was the first Gryffindor Potter in three hundred years, his previous generations being overly dominated by Slytherins and HufflePuffs. Even Charlus himself had stated the hat had given him Slytherin as a second choice in his grimoire. It was only his father James who had turned out to be a quintessential Gryffindor.

 _And I being the actual Lord Slytherin shied away from Slytherin House because of fear!_

 _So many things have to change, there is so much I don't know._

* * *

A burst of fire distracted him from his thoughts. He turned to find Fawkes, the golden-crimson Phoenix, fluttering above his head, singing a cheery tune. A letter fell out its talons, hitting Harry on the head.

 _Bloody bird did that purposely!_

Fawkes let out a trill of laughter.

 _Hey! Don't you laugh at me! I do not-_

 _Hold on!_

 _Fawkes? Can you hear me?_

Fawkes trilled.

 _But I am just thinking. How can you capture my thoughts like that?_

Fawkes sent him a look, one which said, 'don't ask stupid questions'.

 _But I am an Occlumens!_

Fawkes sent him a pitying look, and then mentally sent him an image.

Fire.

 _You think because we both are creatures of fire, so..._

Fawkes looked down at him condescendingly.

 _Great! Now Dumbledore's pet bird is as condescending as him._

Fawkes let out an angry squawk.

Harry chortled.

Opening the letter, he saw it was a missive from the Headmaster, asking him to get ready, and that he would be arriving in less than two hours.

Harry checked the date. 17th July. Right on time.

 _Thanks Fawkes._

Fawkes trilled again and vanished in a blur of flames.

* * *

Exactly two hours later, he received another letter from Dumbledore. Sending him a portkey, one which would take him to the Leaky Cauldron. Deciding that it was no point dropping appearances, he used the portkey.

On reaching the Leaky Cauldron, He saw Dumbledore having a chit-chat with Tom, the barman while having a glass of what seemed like firewhiskey. Pondering if he should try firewhiskey sometime sooner this year, Harry strode ahead and wished the Headmaster.

"Ah Harry! Good to you see you. And look at you, how you have grown! No more the tawny little firstie."

Harry just grinned.

"Well we have dillydallied enough. See you soon then, Tom." Dumbledore finished, and led his hand out to Harry. "I suppose you do not know how to apparate." Looking at Harry's surprised countenance, he continued smoothly, "Don't worry my boy, I know Filius taught you that. He did come to me for permission. And between the two of us, it is an incredibly useful skill to have."

Harry grinned, this time giving his trademarked smile.

"Now, I shall apparate out from here. What you need to do is to hold my hand, and allow yourself to apparate exactly where I go. Flow in the flow of my magic." Dumbledore advised.

Harry nodded. He held Dumbledore's hand and they apparated away.

* * *

They appeared in the middle of nowhere. All Harry could see was a small patch of grassy landmass floating in the vast ocean all around. Both of them were standing on that small landmass, all alone somewhere in the great ocean.

"Professor, what is-" Harry began.

"Don't worry my boy, this is, an illusion." Dumbledore said the last word quite pointedly. Harry had a nudging feeling that the Headmaster knew more than he let out about his abilities. However, he would keep on the façade until the waters reached the bridge.

Dumbledore took out a small knife and sliced his palm, letting a few drops of his blood fall into the sea. There was a flash of light and both of them were pulled inwards into what seemed to a portal of some kind.

 _A modified blood ward supported by Illusions? Has to be, Salazar did say that Nicholas Flamel was a master of Forbidden arte._

They were inside a lavishly decorated and humongous hall. Harry wondered how big the actual mansion was. From the size of the hall, the entire mansion seemed to be much larger than Hogwarts.

A house elf appeared. "Whom shall I say is asking for the Master?"

"Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter." Dumbledore replied back genially.

The house elf nodded and popped away.

Harry looked around the hallway. It was almost exquisitely decorated and carved with rich marble and other precious stones. The entire hall screamed wealth.

 _Well it has to be! What with having a stone that turns anything into gold!_

"Brian!" a rich, cultured voice boomed in from the other end of the hall. Harry saw a tall but lean person, walk towards him. The man could not have been more than fifty, but appearances could be deceiving in the magical world. After all, Flamel was Salazar's teacher of all things, he had to be more than a millennium years of age.

 _Wonder if Dumbledore knows about that tiny little detail._

The man walked in great strides, yet so seemingly relaxed. This was a man, Harry mused, who was comfortable in his own power, and knew how to use it well. The steel grey eyes of the man glinted with a fearsome yet tightly leashed power, and Harry knew very well, what being an Illusionist actually meant. This man was a titan, a titan among wizards. And yet, he so very casually walked towards them.

"And you must be Harry Potter." He shook Harry's hand, a firm handshake, and Harry could feel him synching his aura with Harry's. It was a good way to ascertain the mindset of an opponent. Flamel was figuring out if Harry had any evil intentions while he was in his mansion.

He kept quiet, but Flamel had already noticed the movement of his eyes when he had synched Harry's aura. He knew the young elemental knew what Nicholas was doing, but had shown no visible reaction; well, except his eyes.

 _Still an amateur._

"Nice to meet you, sir." Harry began, "and I am indeed sorry that I could not save your stone from Voldemort."

Albus winced. He knew that it was a sore topic. But Nicholas blandly replied, "Oh don't think too bad of yourself young man. Albus here, was quite sorry himself for that failure."

He pointedly looked at Albus, who seemed to have got the suggestion. "I believe it is time for me to leave." He looked at Harry and replied, "I hope you have a wonderful stay here. I shall see you at school."

He apparated.

Harry felt concerned. This was so unlike Dumbledore. He had left a fourteen-year-old alone with someone relatively unknown. Filing the fact away for later, he looked up at Flamel and gave off a flashy smile.

"Thank you for having me, sir."

"Oh its alright my boy!" Harry winced at the expression, he hated that word. "Please," he began genially, "call me Harry."

"All right then, Harry," Nicholas began, "after all, it's not every day that I get to meet an elemental of all things, especially one worthy enough for Salazar Slytherin to take on, as his apprentice."

The smile vanished off Harry's face.

"How do you-"

"I know many things Harry Potter. I believe Salazar must have told you, that demonstrating illusory arts publicly often attracts attention, and often, the wrong kind of attention."

Harry straightened up. "And what kind of attention did I get from you?"

"Well initially, the wrong kind." Harry winced inwards. "But then, I did some research and decided that I was wrong."

"And what was your initial reaction?" Harry asked, now wary of the ancient sorcerer standing before him.

"Well obliterating you off space and time, obviously." Nicholas genially stated as if they were talking about the weather. "And believe me Harry Potter; with all your powers and skills, you could not have stopped that from coming."

Harry stared at Nicholas.

Silence.

"And what happens now? That you did your... research?"

"Well... Salazar convinced me of... something. And that, essentially makes both of us on the same side of the team. No use killing off a team member eh?" Nicholas chortled. "Come on in, I promise you will find your stay here, very enlightening."

* * *

 **###AUTHOR'S NOTE: I believe there is an ongoing problem on the website. I am not getting any more reviews synced to the story, although readers are indeed, sending their reviews. I think it's a technical problem. Has anyone else also suffered from the same thing? Any ideas how to solve the situation?**

 **## Well, reviews, please.**


	62. ROTS 18: Distortions and Dark Lords

"So is it completely natural for Illusion Masters to try and kill other wizards who have dared to tread upon the path of the Forbidden arte? Isn't that a bit... hypocritical?"

"Well yes, and no. It's not natural for Illusion Masters to kill newbies stumbling with forbidden magicks, but it is definitely natural for the Illusion Master's guild to feel out the newbies and sense their intentions. Understand that we are talking of powerful, deadly forbidden magicks, magicks which in the wrong hands could spell disaster. And I talk of real disaster, not the tomfoolery the idiot dark lord and his merry men had caused during the last war."

Harry nodded. A year ago, he would have been offended at such an emotionless viewpoint, even describing the aftermath as a product of mere tomfoolery, but now he knew better. He very well knew that Voldemort, for sense and purposes, was a wizard, and perhaps an adept sorcerer at most. If Harry were to give in to the Chaos, he could defeat Voldemort blindfolded. The trouble was, that would make him as a worse terror than Voldemort originally was.

 _Not an option._

He nodded to Nicholas, who continued. "However, my original desire to obliterate you did not come from the fact that you were a budding Illusionist. In fact, I did not even know about it until I accompanied Albus to the tournament."

 _So he saw me dueling? But Dumbledore didn't even comment anything. But then-_

"Dumbledore told you of my being an elemental." Harry stated simply.

"Very perceptive of you. Yes, I admit that was my major concern."

"And why? I mean, I know the last elemental did bring destruction to the world, but so did Voldemort. Should we just keep on killing any and all wizards that even showed a slight propensity to be powerful then?" Harry replied sarcastically.

"And therein, lies the crux of the problem."

Nicholas stood up, and lit his pipe. Standing in front of one of the strange artifacts that were present in the room, he asked. "What do you know about elementals, Harry?"

Harry considered the question. Taking his time to formulate his answer, he began. "I know elementals are cold blooded killers, that they are centralized to a particular element, and that they have the ability to draw endless amounts of energy from the Chaos." Harry paused for a moment, "And I also know that there is a threshold level based on energy and intent, which keeps them from the clutches of the Chaos."

Nicholas sprung back in surprise at Harry's final statement, "And do you know how to keep yourself away from reaching that threshold?"

 _I know, but I failed._

" _Sorcerer, you are still learning!"_ Nidhogg urged.

 _Still, I was close to crossing the lines and giving in._

"Harry?" Nicholas prodded.

"I am still a budding elemental yet, I am learning but yes, I think I know how to keep myself away from the threshold."

"And how is that?" Nicholas urged.

"I really... couldn't say!"

"Noted."

"Very well." Nicholas sat back into the couch as the discussion continued. "You have to understand, that while we Illusion Masters are a very knowledgeable lot," he began.

Harry rolled his eyes. Very knowledgeable lot. Definitely understatement of the century.

Nicholas chortled. "Yes so as I was saying, we had no information about any kind of threshold level. Illusion Masters do however, have a threshold but since elementals were purely chaotic beings, we believed that they were simply a part, or rather, a manifestation of the Chaos itself. That said, elementals were really very rare. In fact, you are the seventh elemental since the beginning of civilization."

Harry narrowed his eyes. _Seventh?_

"I see the Arithmancy underneath has caught your interest." Nicholas grinned. "However, the first five elementals never reached their... zenith. They did ... in a way... blow themselves up."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"The earliest elementals were more... crude in their abilities and the sorcerers of old were not so... erudite as we are now. They tried to balance themselves using their self-divined rituals, which made them..."

"Blow up!" Harry finished.

"My thoughts, exactly."

Harry nodded.

"The sixth elemental however, did reach his zenith, and much more. He could wield the powers of Chaos with the effortless ability like you could wield simple fire at this moment." Harry raised his eyebrows at the analogy. "Yes, I am not exaggerating. Sufficed to say, the sixth elemental was this close", he brought two fingers together to gesture, "to obliterating our world and existence."

 _That did sound more dangerous than Voldemort._

"Yes, Voldemort was a mere puny little thing compared to the annihilation that He sought to bring. Hell came to the battlefield when he stood his ground for battle." Nicholas described, _almost_ in reverence.

"You seem to be awfully glorifying someone so evil." Harry replied back with suspicion.

"Evil? No he was not evil. When you have been and seen as much as I am, your perception of events changes. There is no definite good and evil. There is power, there is intent, and importantly agendas."

 _There is no good or evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it._

"I heard similar words from Voldemort." Harry replied back in a calculated manner.

"You sure did. Most dark lords understand and appreciate that sentiment." Looking at Harry's confused expression, he continued his monologue. "No one is evil personified or good personified. Everyone has a bit of both in them. Your headmaster is regarded as the epitome of light in magical Britain while I could construe some of his actions as those of a dark lord. Does that make him evil?"

Harry nodded in denial.

"Voldemort destroyed a lot during his war. But at the same time, he put an end to Albus's piss poor propaganda at banning the use of powerful magicks. I am sure that if let loose, Albus would have slowly but subtly, changed Wizarding Britain into a nation of piss poor mediocrity. Thankfully, there was Voldemort that stopped it from happening. Does that make Voldemort the epitome of goodness?"

Harry denied again. He had understood the point Nicholas was making. The world was not black and white. It was in shades of gray with each person having their own agendas. Sometimes the agenda significantly affected the world reality, but more often than not, they didn't.

"So what was so special about the sixth elemental? Harry asked curiously.

"Oh, you would be curious about that, wouldn't you? "Nicholas smirked. "Very well, let me tell you about the sixth elemental, the dark lord Orion."

* * *

"Is the potion ready?" The spooky voice called out.

Peter shivered. For some inexplicable reason, he wasn't able to have an ounce of sleep ever since he had returned to England, particularly Riddle Manor. Those fiery red eyes, and the spooky voice, seemed to haunt him even in his dreams, not that he stood any chance of complaining or something. Sighing, he diligently returned to his job.

"Almost done, my lord."

Voldemort sat in his baby couch, it was an outrage that a god amongst men, like him was in such a pathetic condition. He was the heir of Slytherin. It was a great shame that he was so helpless at this moment.

 _It will change. I will come out on top. I always do. I am Lord Voldemort._

"Finish it quickly. I am famished."

There was a tap on the door. Voldemort sent a magical foray out. It would not do for his enemies to capture him at this stage. But he was uselessly getting tensed. There was a muggle outside the door.

An old muggle.

* * *

Frank Bryce was the Riddles' gardener. He lived alone in a rundown cottage on the grounds of the Riddle Manor. Frank had come back from the war with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises, and had been working for the Riddles ever since.

It had been the year 1953, that on a warm summer day, the maid of the Riddle Manor had come down shouting and shrieking about finding the Riddle's dead. The police were involved and Frank was suspected, but there was no evidence. On the contrary, the people of Little Hangleton were fiercely against the idea that Frank Bryce was even to be suspected.

Frank has stubbornly repeated again and again, that he was innocent, and that the only person he had seen near the house on the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired and pale. Nobody else in the village had seen any such boy, and the police were quite sure that Frank had invented him.

Then, just when things were looking very serious for Frank, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and changed everything. The police had never read an odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies and had concluded that none of the Riddles had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangled, suffocated, or harmed at all. In fact, the Riddles all appeared to be in perfect health — apart from the fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note that each of the Riddles had a look of terror upon his or her face — but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three people being _frightened_ to death?

As there was no proof that the Riddles had been murdered at all, the police were forced to let Frank go. The Riddles were buried in the Little Hangleton churchyard, and their graves remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, and amid a cloud of suspicion, Frank Bryce returned to his cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House.

* * *

And now tonight, he was woken up a shot of pain through his bad leg. He got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen with the idea of refilling his hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in his knee. Standing at the sink, filling the kettle, he looked up at the Riddle Manor and saw lights glimmering in its upper windows. Frank knew at once what was going on. The young rascals from the village had broken into the house again, and judging by the flickering quality of the light, they had started a fire.

Cursing the boys for their impudent behavior, Frank slowly limped his way into the Manor. He reached the rusty door knob, the one that lay in his reach after climbing the creaking stairs.

A man's voice spoke within the room; it sounded timid and fearful. "There is a little more in the bottle, My Lord, if you are still hungry."

"Later," said a second voice. This too belonged to a man — but it was strangely high-pitched, and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand up. "Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail."

There was silence.

"Where is Nagini?" said the cold voice.

"Upstairs, I just gave her milk to feed."

"Bring her down."

There was a creaking as someone walked up the stairs. Frank wondered what was going on.

"My lord," the _weakling_ as Frank had begun to identity the fearful voice as, began again. "I didn't see Jorkins upstairs."

"I believe that Nagini has just had a full course meal then."

The weakling gave a jaunt of shock.

"Why Wormtail, why do you care?"

"She was a good way to fulfill my... desires my lord."

"Well then get some more. The village is filled with filthy muggles anyway."

 _Muggles?_ Frank wondered.

"And Harry Potter?" the weakling asked again.

"The boy is central to my plans. He will die and I will return to life."

Frank was completely stunned. There was a deranged killer inside and he had already killed a woman. And now the boy- Harry Potter- the killer was planning to kill the boy, whoever he was. His military instincts rose, and he decided to stealthily move down and telephone the police. He was just about to move down when-

"Shhh! Wormtail. I sense an intruder. Nagini-" he hissed again.

By the Gods! Whoever this deranged killer was, he could _talk_ to snakes.

The door was suddenly forced open by a sudden pull as a great gray adder leaped into the air, and a powerful jaw bit across Frank's face, making him scream in agony. Frank fell down, toppling on the floor, as the snake continued to bite and pounce upon him. He could only make out the cold voice whispering a phrase that would be the last he would ever hear.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

* * *

"The dark Lord Orion?"

"Yes. Orion, whose name is synonymous to annihilation. A manifestation of Chaos at its destructive best, he could stand his ground against a hundred mages and still come out alive and victorious. He single-handedly butchered more magicals than anyone else has."

Nicholas looked at Harry solemnly. "Even he had his agenda. Or rather, the agenda of the Chaos, which was, to simply obliterate the existing civilization and let every magic return back to its original dominion. Orion was the messenger, executor, and exterminator on behalf of the Chaos. But, that doesn't stop me from holding the powers of the man in mighty regard. Magic knows that I did battle with him so many times. Orion was winning, we were losing, and the world was at the door of annihilation."

Nicholas paused.

"Then, Myrrdin Emrys entered the war."

Harry was shocked. _The Myrrdin Emrys?_

"He fought with the elemental for over several hours, but Orion still held an edge. And then, Myrrdin did the unexpected."

Nicholas allowed Harry to take in the situation. The man surely had a flair for the dramatic.

"He distorted reality. He bent the waves of space, time and magic under his will. He removed Orion's elemental core from existence. Orion was sent back into Chaos, as a wraith to live in a dimension that was free from time and space." Nicholas smoked his pipe again. "The magical world was in ruins. As illusion masters, we were bound by oath not to interfere amongst wizards. So I watched, as the Statute of Secrecy was drawn. I watched as the family magick of the ruling families was sacrificed for the veil surrounding the magical world. I stood and watched as Emrys gave up his power to fuel the sacrifice and embraced the Chaos dimension."

"Myrrdin Emrys joined the Chaos? But why?"

"What do you know about the Chaos?" Nicholas asked solemnly.

"It is a dimension of endless energy, and that it pollutes anyone that crosses the threshold."

"There is more to the Chaos. The dimension is the progenitor of all magical life. It is the progenitor of magic. It is magic. All magic comes from the Chaos, and all magick shall one day, return back to it. It is the circle of life. Completely fair. But we are human beings. We strive to acquire what we want, even if Nature wants something else. Hence, the destruction. Orion was simply, the executioner."

"What happened after that?"

"I do not know. But I do know that the legendary Peverell brothers managed to create the deathly hallows, losing their family totem and powers in the process. You have Peverell blood in you, surely you know all about that?"

Harry nodded in acceptance.

"That is all I can tell you at the moment. While I had initially feared that the Chaos had sent you as the next descendant, to complete Orion's job here, I now know differently. Knowing it thus, changes my plans. You are Salazar's apprentice, and that makes you mine too, well sort of. Tell me, is there anything I can show you?"

Harry thought hard at the offer. "Well I can already personalize magic, so could you show me some reality distortion?" he hesitated, "even a small scale one would do. I just want to... feel what it is."

Nicholas's eyes glinted. "Changing reality has many ramifications, and thus I cannot show that to you here." He looked at Harry's disappointed countenance, "however, that doesn't mean I cannot show you reality distortion at all."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"As I am sure Salazar will undoubtedly teach you later on, we will use something known as the Mirror Dimension. It is our own pocket reality, a place where the laws of magic and time do not hold. A world beyond time, where you are God. A world that is larger and more magnificent than your wildest imagination. Suffice to say, there were many who lost themselves in their own pocket reality, choosing to stay there, instead of the limited mortal world."

" _It does not do good to dwell on dreams and forget to live._ " Harry muttered to himself.

"My favorite phrase. No doubt Brian told you." Nicholas chortled.

"Why do you call Dumbledore as Brian?"

"Because that is the name I gave him on the graduation day of his apprenticeship under my tutelage."

Harry's eyes sparkled with interest. "So is Dumbledore also a-"

"An Illusion Master? No. An Alchemist? Yes."

"oh!"

"Brian may be many things, but he is, at the end of all that is said and done, a powerful wizard, or at most, a warlock. He doesn't have the magical potency to understand and manipulate sorcery."

 _Warlock?_

"What's with these fancy titles? Warlock, Sorcerer... aren't they all the same?" Harry asked.

"By Magic, NO! They are all different. A wizard is essentially, a wand wielder, one who can manipulate only fixed streams of magic. If you want a modern word, you might call those streams of magic as spells. A warlock on the other hand, can personalize magic in its raw form into whatever form he requires it to be."

"Spell personalization." Harry muttered.

"Exactly, now a sorcerer, that's something different. A sorcerer is someone who can effectively wield primal magic. That's magic in its purest form. Spell personalization is second nature to them. In case you were wondering, you Harry, are a sorcerer. So am I, and so was, or should I say is, Salazar."

Harry heard everything with fullest attention.

 _I wonder if he knows how Salazar became a ghost._

Nicholas stood up, and held his right hand up. "Now, you shall have your first taste of the _Mirror Dimension_."

There was a resounding crack in the air in front, and a small shattering of glass could be heard. Harry looked carefully and observed that the air in front now looked like a cracked mirror, but a mirror nevertheless. There were no edges, just the air in front had the mirror-like feel. He could even see his reflection among the shattered breaks within the mirror.

"Step within." Nicholas commanded.  
He stepped inside the mirror-like portal and Harry cautiously followed him. It was the same as it was before. No change at all. Had the portal not been there, Harry would have thought that he had simply walked up a step up front.

"I see... no change... yet." Harry remarked.

Nicholas smirked, and then suddenly waved his hands upwards towards the heavens. The roof began disintegrating and as if countless reflections of the roof were magically being added into it. The floor began separating too and Harry could see that the reality around him as bending to Nicholas's wishes.

"Come with me." Nicholas held Harry's hand and apparated.

There appeared in main London, amidst the crowds. Nicholas smirked, and raised his hands again. The roads began entwining among each other as the earth's plane seemed to fold into itself. The buildings were above, and the buildings were below. Gravity seemed non-existent for the duo as Nicholas kept on distorting reality more and more.

"How are you doing this? All this bending and everything... this can't be true!" Harry complained bitterly.

"Ah! But that is the first thing about distortion. It is a world where _everything is true and-"_

" _Nothing is real!_ " Harry said, more to himself.

Harry was astounded. This... this was...boggling his mind. To change reality such effortlessly. It was beautiful, beautiful and deadly. Harry was simply stunned with an overwhelming sense of awe for reality distortion.

"Can I...can I... also someday be able to do that?" Harry almost stammered, his usual stoicism vanished long ago. He felt a tug inside him, a greediness that was nonexistent before, one which wanted him to engulf this awe-inspiring power.

Nicholas smirked. "Perhaps. When you are ready."

Harry simply stood, his eyes and mind blank.

"Now... observe!" Nicholas further distorted the reality all around him. Things were still changing, creation, metamorphosis and destruction all happening according to his will.

 _The feeling of being a God._ Harry told himself.

Harry watched as Nicholas bent reality under his will, as if the entire space and time was under the will of his little finger. He saw the world rise and fall, he saw things that never even occurred to him in his wildest dreams and then, there was a resounding crash as the world shattered.

* * *

"Wha-what just happened?" Harry asked Nicholas, finding himself back in the room.

"That happens when you distort reality more than what is acceptable to the controlling principles of magic. Because it was the Mirror Dimension, the pocket reality simply crashed, so to say."

"And if the same happened in the real world-"

Nicholas smirked, as Harry was suddenly reminded of the words of his mentor.

" _The most dangerous, the most beautiful, the most desirable and the most powerful, the reality-distortion magicks. Magicks whose mastery brings you to a level next to Godhood, if there ever was one. Magicks which can change reality... Magicks beyond the limits of the trans-temporal fields of space and time, and if I told you any further without you understanding even the basics behind illusions, you would run away in terror."_

Somehow, Harry agreed with the sentiment.

* * *

 **###AUTHOR'S NOTE: The reviews are finally synced properly! (YEAH!). How do you like the chapter and the unfolding tale? I am correcting some of the grammatical errors of the previous chapters one by one. If anyone wants to lend me a hand, let me know in PM.**

 **Oh and as pointed out, I did change the 'boa python' into adder. Thanks for the suggestion, Ordinarily Prudent. Reviews, please.**


	63. ROTS 19: The Quidditch World Cup

"When are we leaving Papa?" Fleur asked the same question the final time. A rather despondent looking Sebastian Delacour, nodded in resignation.

"In two hours, Honey."

"Why can't we leave now? I could get some time to spend with- I could enjoy the place around." Fleur modified her tirade midway, but not before Sebastian caught on.

"Spend with whom? Harry?"

Fleur blushed like a ripe tomato.

"You do know that he is betrothed already to someone else, don't you?" Sebastian asked, his tone a bit solemn.

"I know, but my magic craves for him. I can't help but get attracted to him." Fleur answered.

"Despite the fact that you might have to share him with another woman?"

Fleur hesitated, frowning at the thought. She stuck a hard smile on her face, "Yes."

Sebastian walked up to his daughter. Holding her rather frail shoulders, he held her firmly, "I am so proud of you." He said, kissing her forehead.

He did not notice the single stream of tears running down his daughter's angelic face.

* * *

"I have talked with Salazar. I will be taking over your training regarding reality distortion. The other arts, Salazar will be focusing over them. Tell me, how did you master your elemental abilities so quickly? Salazar was greatly surprised."

"I am not sure if I should share my secrets with someone whose first instinct was to obliterate me." Harry answered with caution.

Nicholas sighed. "For magic's sake, I just spent the last two days explaining it all to you. And still, you refuse to believe me. Will it serve you better if I give you my oath as an Illusion Master?"

Harry nodded. "I sense a 'but'."

Nicholas laughed. "Oh I like you, boy. Yes, there is a 'but'. You have to swear the oath to serve the Illusion Master's guild and follow its guidelines."

"Guidelines, not rules." Harry countered slowly.

Nicholas laughed, "As I have previously told you, you are incredibly perceptive. Yes, guidelines, not rules. We are Illusionists, we bend space, time and reality according to need. Our job cannot work in terms of something as constant as rules. Hence, guidelines. You should know, more than anyone else, that sometimes the rules need to be broken to serve the greater good of all."

"I shall check with these guidelines of yours, before taking them."

"I expected nothing else. And now," he looked pointedly at Harry, "the answer." Flamel looked at him with anticipation.

"My spirit familiar taught me."

 _Interesting._

"May I see him?"

"Very well."

Harry sighed. He closed his eyes, and as his palms realigned to the correct posture. Letting out a deep breath, he chanted.

" _Anima Praesidium ostendere."_

A huge ball of fire manifested itself between his converged palms which slowly started morphing and in seconds, a fiery ethereal reptile, the Quetzalcoatl stood floating there in all its glory. The light emitted out of its body was so dazzling that Nicholas had to shield his eyes.

Harry opened his eyes, the emerald now covered by the golden hue.

Nicholas was shocked. Those eyes. He had never forgotten them. _Golden pupils shining out of that face._

 _Orion._

"Harry!" he asked with a calculating expression. "Do you know that your eyes change color when you call him?" he pointed at the reptile.

"Yes, they turn golden, and my mage sight activates. It has happened ever since I summoned him from the Chaos." Harry replied, his palm caressing the elegant reptile.

 _Hmm. Might be an elemental thing then._

He looked at the ethereal creature. "How does he communicate to you? Not to sound offensive, but he doesn't really look that... _sentient._ "

"Oh this isn't him. This is just, a manifestation of him. He and I have a deal, and that stops me from bringing it out."

"May I ask what the deal is?"

Harry checked in with Nidhogg, and then complied. "He is a creature of Chaos. Bringing him outside means bringing Chaos, which means-"

"Destruction." Nicholas finished for him.

Harry's eyes glinted with surprise. "Yes, hence the only way I can bring him out is in a battlefield. Somewhere where destruction is necessary."

"Like when you obliterated the Dementors? I heard there were over a hundred of them."

Harry nodded in acceptance.

"Well." Nicholas gave a sigh, "that was... interesting; but," Nicholas floated in the air, and hovered there for a while, "now, let's begin your first class in Reality Distortion."

* * *

After four hours of debilitating training, Harry was completely exhausted. Nicholas had strictly prohibited from using his elemental core. According to him, the process required a lot of intent and energy, and that was something that was readily available in his elemental core; making the process easy for him, but in the long run, Harry would never be able to master the art. He would forever be a newbie despite being so good at it. Hence, debilitating.

"We should leave it here for today. I believe you have some commitment at home."

"The Quidditch cup, yes." Harry grinned.

"very less, I await seeing you next time. I have altered the wards for you. You can apparate here, but only you alone can do so. Keep that in mind. I shall see you next day."

Nicholas nodded, and turned back to walk away, but then, he stopped midway, and turned back at Harry with a sly grin on his face. Harry was suddenly reminded of the Weasley twins seeing the expression on Nicholas' face.

He waved his hand towards Harry as a gargantuan force pull him from behind, as he was bodily lifted and pulled into what seemed to be a never ending portal and yet in a second, he was thrown into his bed at Potter Manor.

 _Bloody hell._

* * *

"Queenie! Get your bags ready. As soon as Harry reaches, we will leave for the tournament." Cyrus yelled out at his daughter.

Daphne smirked. She knew very well how enthusiastic her father was about Quidditch. He had booked seats in advance a month ago, only so that he could get the best seats at the World cup. If there was one thing Cyrus Greengrass loved above his family or work, it was Quidditch. Merlin knew how much her mum had to work hard from keeping the man from attending every single professional Quidditch match of the tournament. Finally, she had relented to go see the finals. Cyrus was beyond himself with happiness.

Daphne smirked at the memory. At times, she wondered if her father had readily accepted Harry because he was so bloody good in that damned sport. She could never understand what joy he and her dad got by flying at break-neck speeds, getting hurt and then staying hospitalized for a week after the wretched game was over.

 _Mental!_ She snorted.

There was a crack of Apparation outside and she ran to open the door, only to be kissed fervently by her betrothed who had just apparated in.

"Ah Harry, you are finally here. Cut the kissing, and get your stuff ready-" Harry and Daphne jumped apart at being noticed by Cyrus but evidently the man was too engrossed in his thoughts and tirade, "-and we can quickly portkey away."

The next few minutes were spent in hurrying to collect necessities and other impertinent stuff. Once they were done, Cyrus took out the registered portkey, an old boot of all things - Harry couldn't help smirking at the oddities of the ministry- and laid it on the table.

"On count of three, One, two-" the entire group held the boot, "-three."

The familiar tug of the navel arrived, whisking them away.

* * *

Harry disentangled himself from Daphne, who had fallen headfirst on him as he stood up. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning Mr. Basil. How far from here?" Cyrus asked the man holding the watch.

"Hang on, let me check. Yes, a quarter mile from here, straight west." The man took the boot away and dropped it into a large box which was already filled with other muggle wastes, portkeys Harry presumed. The other man made a note of the family name, number of members, time of arrival and all such technicalities.

"Well then, we better be gone." Cyrus replied, still keeping his formal tone. It was scary how the man managed to be frightfully intimidating one second and be a jolly family man the next. They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Harry could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon.

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell pulls, or weather vanes. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"That one is the Malfoy tent." Daphne pointed subtly, at the one with the peacocks. Harry sniggered. The irony of Draco stalking across the Hogwarts halls dressed as a peacock came to his mind. "The other one must be the Scamanders. They care more about the birds and beasts, than about their own." She pointed at the one with the birdbath.

Harry kept his amusement to himself as he trudged down the dusty path, Daphne's hand firmly held in his own, walking together very comfortably. They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read **GRINGRAS.**

Snorting in amusement at the misspelt wording, he looked back at Cyrus who had already begun to take out what seemed to be a tent cloth. After the tent was drawn up, it looked quite small for all of them to fit together.

"Cyrus? How are we all going to fit inside that? -" Harry began.

"Magic." Cyrus winked.

Harry went inside the tent. He was astounded. It was a completely different reality inside it. There were five rooms, a kitchen and two bathrooms inside the small thing.

 _Expansion Charms! Of Course!_

Mentally Harry added buying a tent to his list of oncoming purchases for his next term. He did not have any urgent need of it, but given his luck, he might need it someday.

 _I wonder if Sirius has arrived._

His thoughts were immediately answered by a sudden wind that blew inside the tent, a Patronus manifesting in the form of a grey-hound. "Harry! Have you reached? We just arrived here." Amelia's voice spoke through it.

Harry's face lit up with a smile. He looked at Cyrus who nodded and went outside the tent. Casting a Point-Me spell, he spotted the Black tent and walked towards it. Reaching there, he saw Sirius walk out and hug him.

"How are you pup?"

Harry smiled. "I'm good. Did you enjoy the tournament?"

"Sure I did, pup. Your performance was just exhilarating. I know James, would just never shut up about your dueling skills. I know I would."

Harry grinned.

"Where are your seats?" Sirius asked generally.

"Next to the minister's box, on the right." Harry answered.

"Oh! Mine are in the Minister's box, together with the Delacour family." He winked, "I know I should ask you to come and sit with us, but I don't think you would like to leave Daphne alone."

Harry mentally sighed. He had somehow convinced Daphne about the issue with Fleur. Now that Fleur and Daphne would be meeting each other face to face, he wondered what the aftermath would be. His mind wondered, Daphne and her ice spells, and Fleur and her fireballs. His mind visualizing gladiatorial fights between the ice queen and the firebird, he allowed himself to contemplate for a second.

* * *

Together, the two families walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Harry could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Amelia, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again." She added amused, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Tickets, please!" cried the young Ministry witch standing at the entrance.

Sirius handed over his tickets and the witch signaled, "Prime tickets, go up straight, Minister's box."

Cyrus followed Sirius and the witch checked the tickets. "Sub Prime. Next to the Minister's box."

* * *

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. They kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves before a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. Sirius went into the box while Harry and the Greengrasses went to the one beside it. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Harry, filing into the front seats with the Greengrasses, looked down upon a scene the likes of which he could never have imagined. A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at Harry's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Harry saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

Harry's eyes wandered and soon settled on the box just below him. On the last row, there was an empty seat, and beside it, an elf occupied another seat. Surprised that why an elf was keeping seats while it's master was unavailable, he looked around for anyone walking in.

No one.

Harry was just about to look somewhere else when he saw the elf bend towards the empty seat, whisper something and then sit back straight.

 _Strange._

Harry felt something odd. He sent a magical foray towards the empty seat. The foray was deflected by something and he saw the air ripple just above the seat.

 _A disillusionment charm?_

Looking around and checking if anyone was looking at him in particular or not, he closed his eyes, and activated his mage sight. His eyes opened wide, his pupils shining like golden orbs, he observed the seat. There was a distortion in the air, something was deflecting away the inherent magic all around.

 _An invisibility cloak._

 _Why would someone come to watch the Quidditch match wearing an invisibility cloak? Unless..._

Harry wondered if he should intervene. But there was a match going on.

 _So this will be a wait and watch game._

Harry looked down at the stadium. The game was just about to begin. He quickly placed a monitoring charm on the empty seat, and felt the charm hit the cloak.

 _Success._

At least he would get to watch the game.

* * *

"Ah Harry Potter you know, the boy-who-lived- yes the one who defeated You-know-who- yes Lord Black's godson-Heir Black-Lord Potter—Yes he is next seat-ah Harry, come here!" Minister Cornelius Fudge called for him from his box and Cyrus beckoned him to follow up. Harry looked up at Daphne who nodded back, as he went up to the Minister's box. The minister hugged him with an elbow and laughed out loud, as if he had just told a joke to his favorite nephew. Harry knew that appearances were everything in the political landscape and thus, had the fake flashy smile on his face.

"Harry, my boy- meet the Bulgarian Minister, Mr. Oblansky-eh—yea. Minister—the boy who lived here- yes very pleased." Harry could figure out parts out of Fudge's diatribe. He could see the Malfoys seated right next to the Minister's seat. He cast an odd look upon Lucius Malfoy who simply sneered back. Smirking inwards, he looked up to the Minister.

"Yes, Harry this is the French Minister, Mr. Dubois, and of course their head of the DMLE, Mr. Delacour. Sebastian this is-"

"Harry Potter. I know. We have met before." Sebastian replied back with a smirk.

Harry looked back at him with a grin and asked, "How are you Mr. Delacour?"

"How many time must I ask you to call me Sebastian?"

Harry grinned. "May be a few more times." Sebastian laughed. "Come I guess there is someone who has been rather excited to meet you."

"Hi Fleur." Harry wished the blushing Veela.

"Hi Harry." She came up to him, and hugged him. Harry hugged her back. "Come I want you to meet the rest of my family." Fleur nodded.

Excusing himself from the others, Harry tugged Fleur with him as he took her to the other box.

"Everyone, meet Fleur Delacour. Fleur, this is Lord and Lady Greengrass, this little firecracker here is their youngest Astoria, and this is my Daphne."

Cyrus and Victoria nodded primly at Fleur while Astoria gladly shook her hand with Fleur. Daphne on the other hand, stared back silently.

 _So this is Fleur Delacour._

A slow smile flitted across her face, her inner protective female instinct raging, she regarded Fleur as an attack on her mate.

 _This is the Veela that tried to take Harry away from me._

She extended her hand towards her.

"Hello, I am Daphne Greengrass. Nice to meet you."

Fleur looked at the girl that had Harry's heart already within her grasp. This was the girl she would have to share Harry with, for the rest of her life, provided that she would get Harry to firstly agree on the deal. Her inner Veela instinct raging insides, she took a sharp look at the girl who was holding her prey, her mate within her grasp. The Veela inside her howled out in presence of competition.

She took hold of the extended hand.

"Charmed. I am Fleur Delacour."

Daphne's smile tightened.

 _The game has just begun._

* * *

 **###AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, I have reached the Quidditch World cup, the story is going much better than my initial anticipation. Maybe around five more chapters before the new school term begins, that makes it 25 chapters approximately in the background. What do you think of the Daphne-Fleur interaction?**

 **## I have readers sending me reviews and PM's, telling me about the shades from Doctor Strange. I believe that I did mention, that the entire Reality Distortion concept has been heavily influenced from that movie. ( Please check ROTD 38). I want to stress, this is NOT a crossover, just some concepts borrowed to create something different.**

 **Reviews, please.**


	64. ROTS 20: Predators and Prey

"Are we ready?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo." Fudge replied back, comfortable in his plush seat.

Ludo nodded, and whispered a ' _Sonorus'_ , as his automatically moving box moved in to the center of the stadium.

"Ladies and Gentle-wizards! Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup! I am Ludo Bagman, the head of Magical Games and Sports and I will be doing the commentary for this GRAND FINALE!" The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. Cyrus looked up at the corner and remarked, "Veela!" Harry sharply looked up at Fleur who was doing all she could to not look back at Harry. He looked down on the field and saw them- their skin shining silvery bright, their golden hair shining and flowing in the breeze, and the exclamations and dazed expressions that adorned the faces of the people seated all over the stadium. In fact, there were a couple of people who were trying to jump down from the stands to reach them, but were being forced back by women, who were staring at the Veela with scorn.

Harry was suddenly reminded about his discussion with Fleur, about the antagonistic attitude of people against her. He remembered Susan's cold shoulder about Fleur. He remembered Daphne's anger.

"Fleur." Fleur looked up at Harry. He held her palm in his and squeezed it lightly. Fleur smiled back, thankful for Harry's supportive gesture. Harry felt Daphne stiff beside him, but he held her palm too, squeezing her hand and pulling her closer. Daphne gave him a stressed smile, but she nudged closer to him.

Sirius looked at his godson and could not be any prouder than he already was. Harry may look like James, but his inherent nature was much more like Lily. His supportive nature for Fleur and Daphne were shining examples. The way he stood with both of them together, the way he stood by Fleur despite the antagonism for Veela all around; it was completely Lily. Yet, the way he had held Daphne closer to him reminded him of the way James had always tended to keep Lily close and safe, no matter what happened.

 _James, Lily, be proud of your son. I know I am._

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air... for the Irish National Team Mascots!" Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it —

"Oh Look! Leprechauns!" Victoria shouted. Harry realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!" A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!" A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand — _Krum_!"

The Bulgarian team flew out, causing the crowd to howl out in applause. "And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand — _Lynch_!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; and Harry noticed that the brooms they were on, was nothing other than the Firebolt, which was voted as the best professional broom for the year. Harry smirked.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And its Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was a Quidditch game the likes of which Harry had never seen before. The speed of the players was incredible — the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

"Twenty Zero to Ireland!" Ludo chanted as the spectators applauded as the Irish scored for the second time. Harry was having fun. The movements of Krum and Lynch, they were so quick and unpredictable. It seemed that professional Quidditch was much more different and difficult than what he played in school. It was over an hour, and yet Harry had not been able to catch the snitch. Ireland was leading by more than a hundred and fifty and it seemed that the Bulgarians were about to get a low blow.

Harry saw Quigley pass the Quaffle to Moran as they tried to overcome the Bulgarian keeper and score the next goal. Ireland was leading by a hundred and sixty. Then, he saw something glinting in the air. And Krum seemed to have spotted it too, but no wait, he didn't- he was flying in a different direction-why would he-oh that is a feint... Harry smirked. This was interesting.

Harry saw Lynch follow Krum right at the hip but Krum seemed to block Lynch out at every turn; he took a sharp turn downwards and flew perpendicularly down to the ground, at breath-taking speed. Lynch followed him at full speed, and Harry knew what was supposed to happen.

He had himself done it before.

Just about two feet above in the air, Krum turned his broom, pushing it towards the left. It was an incredibly risky move and one single second worth of mistake, and he would be in shatters. Lynch however, was not so lucky as he slammed down on the ground. The sudden 'Ohs!' from the crows were a testament to the injury he must have suffered.

Harry saw Krum shift up and spectacularly snatch the golden snitch from the air.

 _So he did see the snitch._

"Victor Krum has caught the snitch making the score go to four hundred and fifty. Ireland wins by ten points!" There was a loud roar of applause from the majestic crowd.

 _Good match._

* * *

Harry put his Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the Veela still in their usual, beautiful selves, backing away, though looking dispirited and forlorn. "Vell, we fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

The rest of the event was pretty boring. Bagman, or whatever his name was, had then introduced the Quidditch Cup to be brought in. After the losing team—Bulgaria were applauded for their gallant efforts, the Irish team were brought in, served with honor and prizes, and finally the grand Cup.

* * *

Harry and the rest of the Greengrasses had retired back to their tent, while Fleur had left with her family towards theirs. His mind was presently in a veritable flood of the sensational feeling of professional Quidditch. He knew that while he liked Quidditch at school and was pretty good at it, but it was not his passion; well not at least since last year. But the gala that professional Quidditch was, led him to reconsider his statement. He could always go pro, after he completed school, and then after playing for a few years, he could then settle down for a few more masteries of magical arts, while settling down as an educator. He liked teaching, his sessions with Daphne down in the third floor corridor were more than enough proof for that. Besides, playing Quidditch would bring him personal fame, glory and of course, wealth, not to forget that as an Illusion Master, he needed to have a side job, what with all the secrecy in the guild. A side job as a Quidditch seeker should do him fine, Harry mused. It was indeed attractive; he could almost hear Bagman shouting..." I give you... _Potter_!"

"Harry?" came Daphne's voice.

"Huh?" Harry replied intelligently, his mind still reeling from sudden breaking away of his day dreams.

"I think something is happening outside."

Harry closed his eyes and radiated his aura. Yes, a harmful intent was definitely high in the air. Harry's entire posture changed, his countenance shifting to one of seriousness, he stood up and walked out of the tent.

The situation outside had made a one-eighty degrees turn. Where there initially were hundreds of tents filled with cheerful voices of people bragging Ireland's victory, refuting voices as they divided the results of the bets placed on the outcome of the match, family and friends talking and laughing to each other; the situation now was completely different. he could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

 _They killed somebody!_

Harry quickly looked down into the tent.

"Where is Cyrus?" he asked, seeing that the Lord Greengrass was absent from the group.

"He had gone to talk to some friends of his." Victoria replied back.

Harry looked at her hard. "Stay within. And under no circumstances, come out until I or Cyrus return back. I am putting some safety wards over the tent."

"But Harr-" Daphne began indignantly.

"I said NO!" Harry finished, unrelentingly. "Stay within." Harry stood outside the tent and whispered some incantations in Parseltongue. No matter its creepiness, Parseltongue was an excellent language for wards. More than Latin anyway. A silvery mirror like protective layer hung over the tent. Harry keyed Cyrus's signature to the wards, so that he would be able to see the tent. Adding up a _Duro_ charm on top of the existing wards, Harry apparated.

* * *

Harry apparated right in the edge of the forest. He could see the hooded people firing curses and yelling, and laughing out and they put one of their victims under some torture curse.

 _The Cruciatus?_

Harry whipped his wand up and his Patronus burst out, his intent now enough for it to be summoned.

"Go to Cyrus. Tell him- Return to the tent immediately. Same place. Harry."

His wand still tight in his palm, he pulled the hood of his robes up. This was going to be a mess and there was no way he would want people tracing it out that he was responsible for the 'mess' that was about to be created. Harry smirked, his emerald eyes glinting with controlled power and fury, as he disillusioned himself.

There were around twelve men, he calculated. The thought was almost amusing. Twelve people, just twelve people had thousands of wizards running and screaming away like little children. It was madness.

Harry stood close to the group which was now concentrated over a particular place. He saw the majority of them run after a woman and a girl into the woods. Harry could see the golden yellow tent with the familiar crest on it. Wasn't that the-

 _Fuck! Fleur is in danger._

His worries were immediately realized when he heard a painful shriek deep into the woods.

 _Fleur!_

Harry silenced his footsteps and fired two javelins at one of the two hooded men standing in front of the Delacour tent. The sharp metallic weapon gushed through the lower abdomen of the man, dropping him to the ground and crying out in agony. Harry sent a powerful bone-breaker towards the other and the second guy also dropped down unconscious.

He ran in the direction of the sound. Another shriek. This time the voice was younger.

 _Gabrielle!_

Fury stormed inside his veins, his magic egging to come out and cause destruction. He could almost hear Nidhogg craving to be brought out, but this was not the time. At least not yet.

Eight men, all hooded were standing on the ground, before a fallen figure. Harry could see her golden yellow hair and her lithe figure from the distance. The figure had encompassed another little body underneath her, and was maimed, and convulsing in pain. Harry turned towards the hooded men and fired off three fireballs in succession, along with a couple of blasting and Annihilo curses. This was not going to be a duel. Those men would pay.

The men quickly figured out the direction from which the curses were coming and saw a hooded person stand at some distance away from them. Raising up some powerful shields, they decided to launch spells back at the intruder who had stolen their fun. They had been enjoying this activity after years, and now this unknown idiot had arrived to play the hero. It was killing time, just like the old days. One of them whipped his wand and sent a trail of dark curses towards their attacker.

Harry put on an aegis immediately as he resorted to using powerful spells now. There was no point holding back. He conjured two boulders, transfigured them into tigers and ordered them to attack the crowd. While they were busy handling the transfigured animals, Harry quickly sent off a powerful shield above Fleur. That would shield her from stray spells.

His wand obeyed his will and intent, powerful spells and curses sprang out of his shields. He could see the men now beginning to fall back and employ defensive tactics. There was no looking back now, those men would pay.

The forest all around had slowly begun to catch fire, as the curses had blasted over each other and one thing led to another. He conjured several more animals, hurled javelins and bone breakers, giving no time for the men to buckle up a resistance. He could hear the sounds of Aurors coming in. It was time to finish the game. With his both hands now raised up, his wand back into his holster, he sent off a gigantic burst of elemental flames out, burning and ripping off the two men closest to him. The feeling if vengeance high within him, the powers of the Chaos singing in unison, supplying him with more and more of its power; Harry directed it to the rest of the group; despite their relentless attempts to shield against it.

 _This is elemental fire! You cannot shield against this, You moron!_

 _Beautiful! Beautiful!_ Nidhogg crowed.

The predators had now become prey. The hunters were being hunted. There were only two men remaining as the rest were burnt to crisps, nothing remaining that suggested that they were human beings a few moments ago.

"YOU MONSTER!" one of the hooded men cried out.

"A monster, am I?" Harry gnashed his teeth, and fired off a raw energy burst towards the man, making a clear hole through his abdomen, as he fell down. Dead.

The other man was still shaking in anger, fury and fear. Taking up some courage, he fired off a killing curse towards the attacker. He was completely stunned when the attacker weaved around the curse and fired a bone-breaker at him. The powerful curse hit his knee as he shot out a howl of agony, his hood nearly falling off. Harry could see the lock of jet black hair and the thin chiseled facial structure through it.

 _He looks very familiar!_

Harry shook off his thoughts and threw up another bone-breaker, which narrowly missed the hooded man, who had just portkeyed away.

 _And I thought there were anti-portkey wards all around the place._

Harry ran up to the still convulsing body of his friend, and tried to touch her. Fleur was almost unconscious, but obviously her body was still reeling from the effects of the curse. Harry's suspicions were realized again as she convulsed in agony when his fingers touched her. Thinking quickly, he called out for Dobby, the elf popping in immediately for service.

* * *

"Sebastian! Sebastian! I think someone's coming!" Pauline cried out, a mixture of hope and fear in her estranged voice. Sebastian whipped out his wand and held it straight, ready to kill if necessary. Fleur and Gabrielle had gone missing, while Pauline had been unconscious and bleeding inside the tent. It had sent Sebastian down the fury lane. Here was he, the most feared man in France, and yet he was standing helpless, while his daughters were missing while there were terrorists all around. The atmosphere all around was too saturated with magic to allow the Point-Me charm to work. It was so... frustrating.

"Stand back! Reveal who you are." Sebastian roared in fury.

"It is me, Harry!" the hooded figure announced, his hood falling backwards. He stood tall and ready, while a house elf seemed to be coming behind him, a statis levitation sphere above it, and inside there were two figures, female and-

"Fleur! Gabrielle!" Sebastian cried out, and ran towards the sphere. Harry stopped him midway and responded firmly. "fleur has been cruciated, multiple times I guess. Gabrielle, I do not know. We need a mediwizard, immediately."

Sebastian nodded hastily and called for healers. In a flash, a man and a woman apparated in and took control of the statis sphere from Dobby. Rushing into the Delacour tent, they began healing them.

"I think I should return to Daphne and the rest. They should be fine, since I did put up some wards." Harry muttered, more to himself than to Sebastian.

"Who did this?" Sebastian growled.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Harry countered back. Sebastian roared in anger, "They cruciated my daughters and you say they don't matter, how-"

"They don't matter because they are dead." Harry interrupted midway.

"They- you-" Sebastian stumped down, looking at Harry in a new light. "They tortured Fleur, and killed people who did not deserve to die." Harry stated calmly.

 _People who deserved to die..._ the unsaid words hung in Sebastian's mind.

"Thank you Harry. I hope it will not be pointed down to you-"

"I was under the hood." Harry replied back, his mind now racing about Daphne.

Sebastian nodded, as Harry apparated away.

* * *

Harry reappeared in front of the tent only to see the tent safe and sound. He sighed, inwardly pleased with the thought that Daphne was safe. He opened the fluttering corners of the tent and stepped in, only to find a black haired missile bodily hit him. He almost fell down, but his port-ritual body was much stronger, and so he held on to Daphne who had clutched and hugged him hard, sobbing endlessly.

"Where were you? I was so worried. People were dying, even my dad was injured, and you were nowhere! Are you okay? Are you-" Daphne blabbered without stopping as she clutched Harry's neck and hugged him, as if her life depended on it.

"I am okay, Daph!" Harry soothed her, his palms running on her back, trying to calm her down.

Daphne looked up at him, "Where were you?"

Harry stared directly at her. "I will tell you. But not here. Let's leave for now." He looked up at Cyrus, who had a bandaged forearm, and was clutching the dirty old boot.

 _The portkey._

Cyrus nodded and all of them clutched it hard. After three seconds, the portkey glowed blue and whisked them away.

* * *

 **###So I am finally done with the Quidditch tournament. Now just a few more chapters and then ta-da! The new term begins.**

 **###SPOILER ALERT: any guesses who the last hooded figure was? Reviews, please.**


	65. ROTS 21: Realizations

**TERRORISM AT THE WORLD CUP! A WIN FOR IRELAND BUT A MASSACRE FOR THE SPECTATORS!**

 **Last night, the camp site for the Quidditch world Cup was attacked by terrorists. The Dark Mark, the symbol of You-know-who and the Death eaters, was floating high in the air as the forest was burnt, people were tortured and killed, and many families injured. Our sources tell us that there were around fifteen or so men, shrouded in death eater regalia, hurling curses and spells out in random. Whether this was just a random attack after years of silence, or is this some new dark lord rising through their ranks, remains to be seen. The Bulgarian Minister has let us know that three Bulgarian terrorists were captured by the Aurors while trying to salvage the matter. How those terrorists entered, is a matter of concern. As for the death eaters, nobody was caught. Either they had vanished among the crowd, or had miraculously portkeyed out, which brings out the question of the improper functioning of the Department of Magical Transportation. The Head of the same department, Mr. Yaxley had no comments to make about such a disaster. Our research confirms that either the terrorists had hidden among the general populace, or somehow they had a corrupt source at the Ministry. Minister Fudge's undersecretary, Madam Dolores Umbridge, however stated the source of fire to be the Bulgarian Veela who might have reacted foul because of the defeat. Madam Umbridge is famous for her personal prosecution about Magical creatures and-**

Nicholas turned over the page. "You seem to have had a fun night. I hoped to read something that suggested your presence." Harry smirked. "Read along. Maybe you could get a line or something."

Nicholas frowned. He turned back to the paper and read.

 **A matter of deep interest that has risen is the sudden disappearance of a number of Lords and heirs of some prominent Pureblood families. Lord Tiberius Nott, his cousin Augustus; Lord Wilkes, Jonathan Flint, Marcus Bletchley, Howard Shrike, Lord Goyle and his two cousins Theodore and Jacob; Adrian Pucey and Daniel Parkinson. Interesting fact is that many of the above stated missing people were convicted in the Death-eater trials of 1981. Whether that has any significance to the event or not, remains to be seen. The Aurors did however, comment that there was a registered portkey used in the middle of the forest, but on further investigation, nothing else was found, as whoever must have used the portkey, must have tandem apparated after that.**

 **Another seemingly unimportant revelation was the burnings found at the same spot. The entire place was burnt to the crisp, and investigators revealed that it was not normal magical fire.**

Nicholas looked up at Harry, surprise and amusement in his face. Harry had been sitting silently, reading from one of the ancient tomes from the Flamel library, and felt Nicholas stare at him.

"What?"

"You burnt them to death. Didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" Harry challenged. "they were torturing people, and had already killed so many others. They deserved to die."

"If anything, I am happy that they won't be troubling anyone else ever again." Harry ended with a parting thought.

"And that I guess, makes you my best friend." Nicholas laughed heartily. Harry raised his eyebrows at the odd comment. At his stupefied expression, Nicholas continued, "Albus has always been too 'holier-than-thou' and a follower of the principles of second chances. In fact, I believe, it was the very same reason that he was losing from Voldemort and would have lost, if not for your entry."

"Yes, the headmaster believes in giving everyone second chances." _Except Sirius._ Harry continued in his mind.

"And that will be his doom. Seeing the good in everyone is nice and all, but not realistic. I am glad you are a more practical person than Albus ever was."

Harry nodded in acceptance and went back to reading, while Nicholas continued to read the paper.

 **Our sources also state that Sebastian Delacour, head of French DMLE had commented that his daughters, both Veela, had been abducted but had been safely returned back by the gallant efforts of our own Harry Potter. Sebastian went on to say that his daughter Fleur had been tortured under the Cruciatus multiple times, and had Harry not brought her back in time, the consequences could have been detrimental. The Minister of Magic of France, Mr. Dubois, has grandly stated that Harry Potter would be awarded graciously for his efforts. While Mr. Potter was unavailable for comment, we hope he is quite well and uninjured himself.**

"Saving damsels in distress seems to be quite a hobby for you." Nicholas grinned. Harry did not even feel to dignify the comment with a rebuttal.

 **After investigation by Hit wizard personnel, it was found that the dark mark was indeed caused by none other than Barty Crouch's own elf, who was found unconscious near the spot from where the dark mark was cast. There was a wand fallen down at the site. Investigators have confirmed that the wand is registered to one Ronald Weasley, son of Arthur Weasley, the head of the Misuse of muggle artifacts department. Ronald Weasley, who claims that his wand was stolen during the match, was questioned by the Aurors before letting go without any prohibitions. Barty Crouch himself, was unavailable for comment, and not much information could be gained from the elf, who was immediately given clothes by Crouch before apparating away.**

"That's interesting." Harry commented, after hearing Nicholas' rather loud reading. Nicholas cast him an odd look, one which Harry took to mean confusion, and remarked. "The Weasleys were seated just below our box, and there was this empty seat behind them. Another seat was occupied by an elf, though in all probability, it could have been someone else's elf. There was also a man sitting on the empty seat, hidden underneath an invisibility cloak. It would have been rather easy for him to snatch Weasley's wand." Harry conjectured.

"Your hypothesis sounds fair."

"I had cast a monitoring charm on the invisible guy, though I became busy later on with the death eaters. And if that elf was indeed Crouch's elf, then it is quite interesting because Barty Crouch was not in his seat during the match and yet he was there after the match."

Nicholas sat up. "So let me get this straight. You think that the invisible guy was the one to cast the dark mark, a death eater obviously, and that Crouch was somehow involved in the matter. You also think that Crouch somehow aided the man, whom we can safely assume as a terrorist, by giving him a seat and also providing the services of his own elf, which would indicate the elf's presence and yet his own absence. You also think that Barty Crouch knew who cast the dark mark and gave away clothes to his elf because it was somehow caught by the Aurors."

"Very perceptive of you, Master Flamel." Harry smirked, firing Nicholas' own words back at him. Nicholas could not decide whether to laugh or get irritated.

He decided to do neither and focused back to reading the news.

 **Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge was also seen commenting. "Harry Potter is one of the most accomplished duelers our nation has seen in a few years, and has done many services to Britain, especially his vanquishing of Lord You-know-who, his killing of a basilisk in his second year, and of course, and now saving the daughters of the French DMLE head, Harry Potter would indeed be awarded for his gallantry. For more information, visit page 4.**

"So now you are again a national figure." Nicholas commented.

"I don't like this." Harry replied, his face imitating as if he had just tasted a bad egg. "There was this death eater, the one who portkeyed away. He was one of those who had tortured Fleur and he had seen me burning off the rest. Now he will know that it was me. DAMN!" Harry spat out in frustration.

"We need to figure out who it was." Nicholas countered, his voice now serious. "Give me a memory of the event. Maybe I can come up with something."

Harry nodded. Conjuring a vial out of thin air, he extracted the memory using his wand and dropped it into the vial. Handing it over to Nicholas, he said; "Do what you can."

Nicholas nodded.

* * *

Daphne sat in silence in her room. There was no one else there, and she was glad that she was alone as she contemplated the past day's situation. It was so surreal, even now.

 **FLASHBACK**

Daphne looked up at him, "Where were you?"

Harry stared directly at her. "I will tell you. But not here. Let's leave for now." He looked up at Cyrus, who had a bandaged forearm, and was clutching the dirty old boot.

 _The portkey._

Cyrus nodded and all of them clutched it hard. After three seconds, the portkey glowed blue and whisked them away. They had arrived on the lush green lawn of Greengrass Manor. Calling the elf Milly, who came running, Victoria towed an injured Cyrus Greengrass into the house.

"He will be fine." Harry's voice came from behind. Daphne did not even look back. She knew what would happen. She allowed herself to lose her stiffness as Harry's hands snaked across her waist and he embraced her from behind. It was so soothing and relaxing. Daphne loved it.

"Where were you?" She asked.

"Should I say or show you?" Harry replied back.

"Say it. I believe you anyway."

"I saw the men killing someone with the killing curse. I sent a Patronus to your father, telling him to reach the tent as soon as possible. I apparated towards those men and found that they were torturing Fleur and her sister. We fought, I won, they lost. I took Fleur and Gabrielle back to their parents, and apparated back to you. End of story."

"I sense a lot of empty holes in the entire story." Daphne replied back with a scorn.

"All boring holes, trust me." Harry joked.

"And no doubt, important. You know what, I think I would like a memory of that event. Let's go fetch dad's pensieve." She strode forward to her dad's study.

Reaching the study, Daphne took out the pensieve and saw Harry stand behind her, a surly expression on his face. "What?" she questioned.

"Nothing." Harry waved away the question.

Odd.

"And now, the memory please?" She extended her palm towards him, demanding the memory.

Harry sighed, and took out his wand. Placing it on his temple, he withdrew a copy of his memory and placed it into the pensive. The silvery hairs fused with the golden waters of thepensive, churning all around.

"Ready?" she asked. "You go; I will stay back here." Harry countered.

Daphne shrugged.

She dove in.

After what seemed to be an anxious wait of thirty long minutes, she had returned back from the pensieve. Her eyes red, her face pale and shivering... "They-that-you". Harry walked up to her and embraced her.

Daphne found her solace in his warm embrace and hugged him for what it was worth. After a few moments, she stepped back, not having the courage to look up at his eyes.

"Do you... do you hate me?" came Harry's soft reply. Daphne looked up at him in surprise, and was shocked to see the genuine fear of rejection in his eyes.

 _Is he truly afraid that I will hate him now?_

"Daphne? Do you... hate me?" Harry tried again.

"Why would I hate you? You did the right thing. Those men- barbarians-they were torturing her-Fleur, and her sister." Her mind was busy showing her images of herself and little Astoria being tortured similarly. She looked up at her betrothed. "You did the right thing- I am proud of you." She let off a tensed smile.

Harry seemed beyond happy. He rushed to her and kissed her fiercely, as if holding onto her for his life. "I am so happy Daphne. I feared you would hate me and-"

"STOP!" Daphne yelled out, she poked her finger on Harry's chest on each single word. "You-will-not-blame-yourself-again. You did the right thing, although I am furious that you acted so Gryffindorish, leaving me in the tent."

Harry gave a lop sided grin. "Can I make up to you for that?"

Daphne smirked, "It will be difficult, but I believe you would just do fine."

Harry kissed her back again.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

Daphne got up from her bed. It was time to check her dad.

* * *

Severus Snape woke up from his nap in pain. It was good that the house elves were decent at nursing, else there would be questions to be answered, and Severus would have no answer to them. It was bad enough that he was in agonizing pain anyway, and the bittersweet truth was, it was because of his own sordid plan.

 **FLASHBACK**

"Did you sense the mark growing darker Severus?" Pettigrew had asked.

"I did. The dark lord will return shortly, I believe. Although, my sources say he is in Albania."

"Albania?"

Severus smirked and narrated what he knew about Quirrel—his getting possessed by the dark lord- the stone- the altercation with Potter-whatever he could tell without any difficulty. Peter had taken it upon himself to go to Albania himself and find their Lord. He had suggested that perhaps some support for the dark lord would be a good idea, and Severus had consented. That way, he could claim that he was not a traitor to his lord. The Quidditch world cup had sounded like a good site, for some old-day-glory. Gathering up some of the old members who were out of prison, Severus had set the plan out.

It had seemed like a good idea. The Bulgarian terrorists were only too happy to help. Portkeys were no issue, Yaxley could manage that easily. They had decided to attack the foreign dignitaries. An attack on Fudge would attract much more attention, so they had divided into groups. The Bulgarians had been set at causing mayhem and killing, while Severus and the rest had attempted attacks on the foreign dignitaries. The common folk were of no concern, one offensive curse and the sheep ran like chicken. It was a good plan.

Then, some idiot had gone ahead and cast the dark mark. Severus had been so furious about it. They were supposed to cast it before leaving, not in the start of the mayhem. The mark had attracted the Aurors and hit-wizards way too sooner than Severus had expected. The good thing however was, the Delacour were under capture. The Head was missing, but the daughters were there. Veela! Severus had often desired the bountiful assets of those creatures. Seeing two Veela run from them, Severus and the rest had run after them. It was fun, chasing the prey.

Then, the hooded man had entered the scene.

At first, Severus had thought it was some Gryffindor expecting to play hero, and hence he fired off some dark curses back, expecting the guy to run away. But the reverse had happened. The hooded guy had come upon them with overwhelming force, his magic suffocating and deadly. The way in which he weaved through the killing curses and hurled bone-breakers and javelins, Severus would have thought that he was fighting the dark lord himself.

And then, came the inevitable.

 _Hell came to the forest._

The guy had his palms outstretched at them and a raging inferno had manifested out of his palms. Severus was astounded beyond reason. Fiendfyre and wandless? The flames had burnt off the entire team leaving only Severus and Wilkes behind.

He had never heard Wilkes sound so fearful, he was calling the stranger a monster, and in return, the monster had sent an energy burst that made a huge gaping hole through Wilkes' spine, who dropped down dead almost immediately, before firing another round of flames. Severus had seen the other bodies, now completely turned to ash. With righteous fury, he had tried to land a killing curse but the monster had weaved through it too, and returned fire with a bone-breaker, hitting Severus in the knee. Severus was lucky to have his portkey with which he escaped but not before another bone-shatterer hit his spine. He had been in agony, but somehow he had managed to apparate to his house at Spinner's end. It had taken him an entire night of pumping potions down his throat, to make himself considerably fit enough to move.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

As if that wasn't enough, he just had to find out from the newspaper, that the blasted guy, that monster, Severus shuddered, was none else than Harry Potter.

Potter.

That Monster.

Potter. The little kid. The monster. Firing dark curses.

Potter. Learning to duel. The monster. Burning the entire group alive.

Potter. A fourteen-year-old. That monster. Powerful enough to make Severus reminisce the dark lord.

It was madness.

And most of it all, he could not raise his concerns anywhere, else questions would arise, and Severus would be caught guilty. Potter had killed them all, mercilessly. And yet, there was nothing Severus could do to him.

CURSE YOU POTTERR! Severus shouted out into the night.

* * *

 **####Ta-da! Finally done with the background works. Next, the school term begins. But before that, I am indeed surprised by the 'tunnel-vision' approach of some of my readers, especially seeing the number of believers who held Cyrus guilty. I would like to borrow a line from one of my most favorite fanfiction authors, The Sinister Man.**

 _"Two-dimensional! You know that some mysterious person is running around the school petrifying people. And you know the Defense instructor is mysterious and probably has ulterior motives. And since, in your mind, Hogwarts can't possibly maintain more than one conspiracy at a time, you naturally assume that the Defense instructor is the one doing the petrifying. Two-dimensional!"_

 **Getting my point guys? Anyways, reviews, please.**


	66. ROTS 22: Back to School

**SEPTEMBER 1** **ST** **,1994**

Harry stood outside the Kings Cross station. He had directly apparated from his Manor to the station and was now waiting for the others to arrive. The last month had been quite... exhilarating, enlightening... and perhaps a lot numbing. He now knew a lot more than what he did before meeting Flamel, and ever since then, his life had changed drastically.

Ever since the Quidditch cup that had happened on 30th July, he had been constantly flitting across different manors. Most of his time would be spent at Flamel Mansion, he would come back during the noon to his family Manor where he and Dobby would sit together and have a hearty lunch. The evenings would be spent at the Greengrasses with Daphne mostly and with the rest of the family occasionally, while he would retire back home at night for his reading and then sleep. And the process would renew all over again the next day.

Flamel would teach him the basics of reality distortion, mostly theory and then some amount of practical stuff. There were days when he would be studying magical anatomy and physiology sitting in the elegant library of Flamel Mansion. It turned out that a knowledge of anatomy and physiology was essential for anyone who wanted to excel in the forbidden arte. Harry had asked Flamel about the process of becoming an Illusion Master. He still remembered Flamel's answer.

 **FLASHBACK**

"There are basically two steps to being a Master of the Forbidden arte. The first is that you need to at least fight your Master to a stand still for a period of one hundred and forty-seven minutes." Harry raised his eyebrows at the odd time interval. "The other is that you need to perform a significant reality distortion in the real world."

"But won't that affect the reality around us?" Harry asked.

"Of course it does. And therein lies the significance of the test. The idea is to limit your distortion in a way so that it is significant and at the same time, it doesn't not affect the reality all around us to any considerable extent."

"Like distorting oneself?" Harry muttered, surprising himself.

"Very perceptive. Yes, you are correct in that. Distorting your own self could be one way of doing it. But also keep in mind, distorting oneself always has ramifications. The bill always comes due."

"Hmmm." Harry sighed.

"I have a question though, although I am thinking of a way of putting it less... bluntly."

"Ask away."

"Why are you still... not dead?"

"Excuse me?" Nicholas exclaimed.

"You told me that you have seen Myrrdin Emrys battle. You have trained Salazar Slytherin himself, and that was at least a millennium ago. How are you still alive? Is that because of the stone?"

Nicholas stared at him. "Yes."

"Oh!"

"So you are going to die soon?"

"And why would that be?" Nicholas asked, amused.

"Because I could not save your stone during the fight in my first year?" Harry answered.

"You are still an amateur. You think, that something of such immense power, could be destroyed in a fight between a wraith and an eleven-year-old? Even if Myrrdin Emrys himself would throw down his best energy burst, it would at most break the stone into two pieces, if at all. In any case, had the stone been actually destroyed, you would not be here. The energy released would have been enough to decimate half of the continent."

"So you gave Dumbledore a fake stone?"

"Well a rather nice imitation, but yes, a fake one." Harry gaped. The realization that Nicholas had simply made a fool out of Dumbledore and Voldemort, made him feel utterly small in front of Flamel. "And Dumbledore did not know that?"

"Well Brian is many things, but not an Illusionist. And neither did Tom Riddle ever embark upon the path of the forbidden arte. He was too... fearful for that."

"Excuse me?" Harry questioned.

"Tom Riddle had indeed approached an Illusion Master in his youth, but he had failed in the first test that is officially used for selecting an apprentice."

"And what test is that?"

"To face death. The first thing an apprentice needs to learn is to trust and follow his master's every word. He was told to jump down a dark well, and told that there was every chance that he would die in it. Tom refused, and never came back. My conjecture is that he embarked upon the path of ritual magicks after that incident, trying to use sacrifices as a way to become powerful, and from what I have heard, he did become quite powerful, well for a warlock that is."

"Not a sorcerer?" Harry urged.

"Not a sorcerer."

"My elemental training does need rituals though." Harry replied back.

"Sure it might, but you should remember one fine print about rituals. They are seven-based, and that being such, you need to stick to using them as little as you can. If I may ask, how many rituals have you performed so far?"

"Two on my elemental self, two on my normal self."

"And now I believe you have an inner drive telling you to resort to more and more rituals- correct?"

Harry nodded, "Am I addicted?"

"No. well, not yet. I have one single advice for you. Use as less rituals as you can. The maximum number you should reach for either is seven. No more than that, and that was a dire warning."

"What happens when I do the eighth?"

"Apply your Arithmancy knowledge. I am told you have an affinity for it."

"A seven-based magic, so the next stop should be fourteen-no wait, two is not a stable form, so twenty-one-no, hold on!" Harry looked sharply at Nicholas.

"Bloody fucking hell! The next stop is forty-nine?"

"Congratulations. You passed my expectations."

"Bloody Hell. Forty-nine rituals? I cannot think what that could do to a wizard."

"I think you know..."

"You mean to say that Voldemort was- he did-"

"And here endeth the lesson." Nicholas said with a smirk, sending Harry back through the distortion gateway.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

The all-encompassing sound of the Hogwarts Express shook Harry out of his musings. He looked up from his seat and saw that the platform had filled up with people. The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. He finally spotted the black haired blue-eyed beauty arriving on the platform with her parents and her sister. Astoria was now going to go for her second year and could already be seen talking excitedly to some other girls on the platform- Harry mused- who would be her friends. He stood up and replaced the tome in his hand inside his satchel. His newly bought five-room wizarding tent lay folded inside his new multi-compartment trunk, while his grandfather's trunk was filled with books from his Family Library and Parseltongue-locked. Both the trunks had been reduced to the size of a matchstick and hung in a gold chain around his neck. Harry had charmed the gold chain unbreakable for precaution's sake. He had also invested in a potion's belt which was basically a belt with expansion and statis charms required to hold various potion vials in permanent statis. His tutoring under Nicholas's tutelage had reinforced the fact into him that he could be attacked any moment and thus, he had embraced the survivor principle—always be prepared for any change of circumstances. Hence, two bags containing several thousand galleons had also found their way into his trunk.

"Harry!" Astoria had spotted him earlier than others, and Daphne turned back to see her betrothed walk up to her. She strode up and kissed him, and all of a sudden, she was the main attention for various whistles and catcalls all around. Realizing where she was, she quickly stepped away and blushed deeply. Harry grinned back at him and wished the elder Greengrasses.

Harry and the two Greengrass sisters stepped into the train to find a compartment for their own. Finding one, he took Daphne's trunk and uplifted onto the rack. After Astoria's trunk was done with, she left out to find her own friends. Soon enough, Blaise, Theo and Tracy joined them. Neville and Susan had stopped to chat with a few of their Gryffindor friends, Blaise reported and that they would soon be joining the gang in their compartment. Whipping his wand out, Harry silently waved it over the seats. Blaise, Theo and Tracy gaped at him and the now extending seats, clearly an expansion charm was being used. They were about to ask how Harry had managed to do it, but then they remembered the incident with the Dementors. For someone who had managed to do the impossible, silent casting was nowhere a big deal.

"Harry? How are you doing that?" Tracy could not stop herself from asking.

"Oh this?" Harry asked casually, "this is a simple expansion charm."

"Not that-That." Tracy tried. "I meant, you did not chant the spell."

"oh! Well I am used to silent casting. I rarely need to speak out spells anymore." It was not a boast, just a fact.

Blaise shook his head, while Tracy looked up at him, as if trying to discern some hidden truth.

"So Potter, heard that you tried a hand at the dueling tournament. I hope they did not give you a hard time trying to keep up." Came the voice of Draco Malfoy.

Harry spun back and plastered a smile to his lips. "Cousin! How are you? No, the tournament was fantastic. I hope you too had- no wait, you were eliminated quickly enough by Fleur."

"Cousin?" Draco spluttered. He was used to Potter retaliating in anger, not in such a cheerful fashion.

"Of course Draco. Now that I'm heir Black, and your mother being a Black, that does make us cousins of sort. You did know that, didn't you?" Harry taunted, his eyes glinting with malice.

"What?" Draco spluttered indignantly, "No you are lying Potter. I am the Black heir. After that blood traitor dies, I will get the mantle."

Harry smirked and raised his right fist. The Black heir ring had become visible and was glinting. "Say that again, Malfoy?" Draco was stupefied.

"In fact," Harry continued, "tell you what, try wearing this." He lifted the ring off his finger and held it out to Malfoy. "If you can put it on your finger, I will do whatever you want. Come on, "he egged Draco further. "I am just a filthy half-blood right? Where is your pureblood heritage?"

His anger getting the better of him, Draco snatched the ring out of Harry's finger and tried to put it into his finger. A streak of magic shot out through the ring, causing his finger to explode in pain. Draco somehow managed to throw the ring away and held his finger, trying to control his agony in his voice.

Harry smirked and willed his ring back, which magically returned to his finger. "Are you done, cousin? Or do you have anything more to say?"

Draco looked at him flabbergasted. "My father will hear about this, Potter. You will rue the day you face the wrath of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy."

"Care to repeat that before the Lord of the most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, heir Malfoy? Do you have the station necessary to call that feud you so very carelessly worded? Tell me heir Malfoy, what-will-your-father-say-when-he-hears-about-this?"

Draco stared hard at Potter. "Crabbe, Goyle, Weasley, let's go."

Harry stared at their returning backs with a smirk. "Hey Weasley?"

Ron looked back at his ex-best mate. His face shifting into a proper sneer, something he had spent hours perfecting in front of the mirror all summer, he turned back to face Potter.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"Tell your father, that as vassal of Lord Potter, he is invited to my Manor, for some business discussions. Also tell him that his sons Fred and George Weasley and those abroad, are also invited."

Ron gave him an indiscernible look. "So be it." He marched away to join Malfoy.

Harry turned back to face his friends inside the compartment, and noticed that most of them were giving him blank stares. Feeling a bit uneasy, he asked... "what?"

"That," Tracy blurted out, "was AWWESOME!"

Harry chuckled.

"So guys, does anybody know anything about the Triwizard Tournament?"

* * *

Harry got down on the chilly Hogsmeade station platform. Walking down the stony compound, his sight wandered down to the edges of the wards of the great school. His eyes wandered to the edge of the forest where he had faced his most dangerous foe the previous year. The flashes of him summoning the great snake into existence, obliterating the Dementors, destroying them and burning them to shreds. He remembered how Flamel had described the dark lord Orion, how he literally brought Hell into the battleground. Harry's mind delved into his own actions...

 _His hands immersed in magical energy..._

 _Flames arising out of it..._

 _Dementors burning out, right and left..._

 _He shifting his palms towards the death eaters, burning them alive..._

" _You... you MONSTER!"_

Harry was wildly shaken away from his reveries as that memory reverberated through his mind.

" _I am not a monster... I am NOT a monster. I am not..."_

 _An elemental is a cold-blooded killer..._

 _His hands, showering the mighty inferno, burning the terrorists alive..._

" _Sorcerer! Get a hold on yourself!"_ Nidhogg barked out.

 _Huh? I am sorry... I just got a bit... carried away in thoughts..._

" _I am in your mind. Or did you forget that? That was the Chaos trying to manipulate you... focus_ on your mental shields. Return to your iron-clad control. Or you will become what you fear."

 _I don't know Nidhogg. On one side, I have this fear of becoming like Orion, and on the other, I can't stop my curiosity about forbidden arts._

" _You do remember what Nicholas had told you in return, don't you?"_

 _Yes._

" _ **Why are these arts forbidden? I mean, is it bad to use them?"**_

" _ **No knowledge is forbidden."**_ **Nicholas had answered,** _ **"Only certain practices are. These arts are called Forbidden to keep them away from headstrong, unsteady minds."**_

 **Harry had nodded.**

Harry's mind raced into the realms of thoughts about his ex-best friend, Hermione Granger... Headstrong, steady... how precisely particular. Hermione had been seduced into malicious rituals from that foul tome... and Harry was unable to do anything about it. His life had truly changed drastically.

He, who had lurked in corners to escape the other students from calling him the heir of Slytherin, was actually the legitimate heir... he, who was a freak all his early childhood, was now purer of blood, heritage, fame and wealth than most in Europe. He, who had begged the Hat from being sorted into Slytherin, because of fear of becoming a dark wizard, was now Slytherin's apprentice.

 _Irony._

Hermione Granger. Muggleborn. Bookworm. Ostentatiously a teacher's pet. Dedicated rule follower. And now, Hermione Granger was a dark witch, under the influence of truly nasty magicks and tomes. She had already been chastised too many times but to no results.

 _More Irony._

Ronald Weasley. Harry's first friend. Red headed 'good and noble' Gryffindor. Malfoy-hater. Jealous. Prejudiced against Slytherin and dark wizards and spells. Lazy. Now, Ronald was Malfoy's personal crony, even sneering like him at times, although still jealous and lazy. Harry mused with amusement.

Harry fought back a laugh.

 _Irony indeed._

"Just a couple of months, and seems so different, doesn't it?" came Daphne's voice behind him, as her hand snaked around his.

Harry smiled at her.

 _An understatement if ever was one._

* * *

 ** _###_ Okay I know, this was a side chapter. But I needed one to just fill up certain unfilled spaces before I began with the school term formally. Hope you like it. Reviews, please.**


	67. ROTS 23: Surprising developments

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry and Neville walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. He could see the professors sitting at the staff table, but curiously, there were many empty seats this time. Snape sat there in his usual surly form, what with the way he kept that ragged old bat outlook that oh-so-perfectly matched with his blowing robe. Professors Babbling and Vector, chatting endlessly amongst each other while McGonagall and Flitwick sat almost a bit solemnly on their seats. Dumbledore was missing from the hall, so far that is. The chair of the DADA teacher for the year, Harry thought amused, was also empty.

The great doors of the gargantuan hall opened with a loud thug. Harry saw Dumbledore walk in, wearing a rather odd flowing robe, what with the way crimson, azure and green were mixed in random throughout the robe. He was followed by a rather fat, short statured man whom Harry recognized as the commentator of the Quidditch Cup, Ludo Bagman; and another rather stiff and tall grumpy man, who appeared to be in his sixties. He had a short, almost rectangular moustache that seemed to be just, odd.

"That's Barty Crouch." Neville whispered from beside. Harry looked back at the stiff man. This was the man who was responsible for Sirius' years at Azkaban. This was the man who had not given his godfather the basic right to a fair trial. This was the man, Harry mused, who had helped that invisible terrorist to cast the dark mark.

 _I need to keep my eyes on him._

* * *

Crouch and Bagman went up to the staff table and took their seats. Dumbledore centered himself on his mighty throne, Harry mused. The old man was literally, ruler of the school, in a manner. He wondered what the old man would say if Harry told him that as Lord Slytherin, he could very well snatch the control of the wards without his permission. The sorting of the fresher students was done and finally, Harry stopped his musings as the Headmaster stood up to make a speech.

"To our new students, welcome. To those who are returning, welcome back!" Dumbledore began, "There is a time for words, but now is not it. So," he winked before the general crowd, "tuck in!"

With that final phrase almost serving an incantation, the House tables were overflowing with food. After a rather noisy feast, and after the puddings had been demolished, Albus Dumbledore stood up again, the hall falling silent immediately afterwards.

"So now that we are properly fed and watered, I have a few notices to give out. Firstly Mr. filch has asked to kindly inform-"

Harry's mind had wandered off after that. He was busy looking at Severus Snape. He had felt a Legilimency foray radiate towards him and had caught it midway, shredding it into pieces. Immediately, he had noticed Severus Snape glaring at him. There was open hatred in those dark eyes, and for a moment, Harry was flabbergasted by his openly hostile intent.

 _Was he always so hostile towards me? Or has anything changed?_

Harry saw Snape send a rather violent Legilimency attack on him again, but he was ready this time. He had trained against much more powerful techniques before, this was hardly anything of consideration. He allowed the attack to enter his mind, traversed the path travelled by the magical signature and then applied one of the first basics of Illusion that Nicholas had taught him.

 _The art of reflection._

Harry reflected the Legilimency foray back towards Snape and added some of his own innate energy to it. The now overpowered energy traversed back to Snape's mind and hit him point blank. Harry saw Snape's eyes get cloudy, as he felt Snape get stuck in his technique.

 _The Legilimency loop._

A technique used by accomplished Illusion Masters that employed the Legilimency attacks of their opponents against themselves. What Harry had effectively done was reflect Snape's foray back into his own mind, while giving the impression that Snape was successful in breaking into Harry's mind. The more Snape focused in his attack, the more Harry was able to traverse inside the Potion Master's mindscape.

 _Why do you hate me so much Severus Snape? My mother was your friend, yet why do you behave like a ... like a monster?_

 _Monster..._

The last word seemed to get some reaction from his mindscape as new memories filled into the Potion Master's mind. He had to admit, the man was an accomplished Occlumens. Harry could only see flashes from the memories. He saw him standing in a dilapidated and thoroughly destroyed room... it looked so familiar... smoke... burnings... Fire... He saw looking up at himself from behind a bush. A loud yell...

 _'EVIGILABIT AD MONSTRUM!"_

The entire mindscape shattered. Harry was taken by surprise as he found himself back in the great hall. The crowds of students- the headmaster speaking- applauses-

"Welcome to the Triwizard Tournament!"

A loud cheers accompanied Dumbledore's statement. Harry blankly tried to figure out everything that happened. He looked back at Snape who had suddenly fallen unconscious on the staff table, and now Babbling was trying to enervate him back.

What was Snape doing, casting such an evil spell?

Harry thought hard... That spell was one of the forbidden spells from the Book of the Fallen Titan. It brought out the worst in a person and was basically used by the ancient warlocks to prove that the prisoner was indeed an evil thing and not innocent. It awakened the worst in a person. The sight he had seen was familiar. He had seen himself, standing outside a large wooden door... Hagrid...But that was during... Pettigrew... and... REMUS!

Harry's pupils dilated with shock. Snape had been the one to cast that unknown spell that had hit Remus, causing him to transform... but Snape was a professor...Why would he... unless...

 _Morgana's tits!_

* * *

Harry looked back at the fallen potions master. If what he had assumed was correct, then the Potions Master would pay. With his life, if necessary.

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. A dull _clunk_ echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling.

He heard Ron Weasley gasp out in wonder. "That's Mad-Eye-Moody!"

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye — and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

There was no applause. Everyone was rather stuck, speechless, transfixed by Moody's strange appearance.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" roared the strange man, his electric eye zooming all around in excitement. His rather sudden roar had gotten the students rather scared, than anything else.

"Yes, well, Professor Moody here has been a Master Auror for decades, one of the finest the Ministry ever had. But I have convinced him to come back as a Professor for the Defense against the Dark arts post for the year."

 _Interesting!_

 _I wonder if Nicholas told him anything about me._

Dumbledore had resumed his speech again. "Yes, well, on two days from Halloween, we shall be joined by our friends from the elite institutions of magic. The Durmstrang Institute and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. The students shall be staying for the rest of the year with us and I implore all of you to be on your best behavior. Keep in mind, only students greater than sixteen years of age shall be considered eligible for the Triwizard Tournament. The tournament is famous for its history of champions dying in the process. There is a magical contract which says that if your name comes out of the goblet, you WILL have to participate. There will be NO second thoughts on it later on. _Once you enter, there is NO going back!"_

His speech was met by curious whispering among the House Tables as the Prefects got up for their duties and escorted the rest of the students to their respective Houses. Harry was just about to enter the dorm room and-

"Mr. Potter." Cried the stern voice of Professor McGonagall. Harry turned towards her and found her coming towards him in strides.

"Yes, professor."

She handed him a note. "Professor Dumbledore gave me this. It is for you. And by the way Potter, excellent job with the tournament. I was most pleased. But-" her voice turned more stern, if that was possible, and her lips thinned. Harry mused how very similar she looked to an angry dragon at the moment. "The Triwizard tournament is for higher-ups. I do not want you to meddle your way in."

"Professor, why would I want to participate in a tournament which is famous for killing its Champions?" Harry asked her, his face scrunched up.

"Oh I don't know. Maybe the same thing that caused you to be in presence of the troll and the basilisk in your initial years!" McGonagall replied back sassily as she parted away.

" _Well, she does have a point."_ Nidhogg agreed sagely.

 _Oh, shut up._

* * *

Harry walked up the circular steps that led to Dumbledore's office. He waited for a second and decided to try out something he had often wondered before. He activated his mage sight to check the door.

 _Bingo!_

 _A detection ward, an intent ward, and ... a slight compulsion ward? Willy old man indeed._

Harry intentionally passed through the wards, activating the signals as he knocked the door.

"Come in, Harry."

He smirked. Not so amazing when you can sense the tricks underneath, Harry mused.

"I got your note, Headmaster."

"Yes, please sit down. I had some... something to discuss with you."

"Would that be about how you left me alone at Flamel Mansion, knowing very well that Mr. Flamel could have killed me?"

Dumbledore winced. With a sad expression, "It would."

"Well then Headmaster, as much as I appreciate your willingness to apologize, I do not care. I had given you a modicum of my trust, and you betrayed me in the face. However," he took out a small letter from his robes, "this is for you."

Dumbledore gingerly took the letter from him. He held it with both hands and observed the letter. The mark of the Flamel crest was very distinct.

"Why did Nicholas send me a letter via you? No offence intended, but he could have simply used his phoenix."

 _Yes, that bloody bird. Always setting my clothes on fire. Ruddy bird!_

Fawkes trilled, as if laughing at his surly thoughts. Harry gave him a rather nasty look, but Fawkes trilled all the more.

 _Bloody bird._

"Harry?" Dumbledore repeated.

"Why he did that, I suppose the letter might be an indication."

"Do you know the contents?"

"I do not have _clandestine_ habits, Headmaster. If I may, I should return to my dorm."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Off you go."

* * *

After Harry had departed from the office, Dumbledore opened the letter. It was indeed from Nicholas.

 **Brian,**

 **I have taken Harry Potter as my new apprentice. Under the apprenticeship laws as you very well know, he is now answerable directly to me and/or any other masters he might be currently apprenticing to, at the moment. As your former Master and friend, it is my request that you stop any and all endeavors relating to my apprentice. Hope you are fine.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Nicholas Flamel,**

 **Grand-Master of the Alchemist Guild,**

 **Grand-mage, Illusion-Master's Guild,**

 **Lord of the most Ancient and Noble House of Flamel.**

Dumbledore closed the letter. This was interesting.

Nicholas had taken Harry in as his apprentice. It was a huge step considering that Nicholas was almost about to kill Harry Potter for his elemental nature. Albus wondered what changed. The 'request' as Nicholas had so loosely stated in his letter, was a misnomer. It was a direct order, and Albus knew it. However, sometimes for the good of all, rules needed to be broken. It was one of the first thing he had learnt as Flamel's apprentice.

If the safety of the world was in concern, then Albus would do anything to save it.

 _Anything._

* * *

Harry raced down to the second floor, and soon enough, was back in his favorite place. The Chamber of secrets. It had been two months since his last visit to this Chamber, and even more, since he had met his mentor.

"Master, I am back!"

"So the prodigal student returns!" came out the sassy voice of Salazar from a corner.

 _Was he hiding there?_

"it has been a long time since I saw you last, apprentice. You have certainly changed a lot, both in appearance, skills and mentality, from what I hear. And I did hear quite a lot."

"All good things, I hope." Harry countered with a grin.

"Well, mostly." Salazar refuted, his lips pursed, as if in thought, and then he looked down sharp at his apprentice. "Conjure the Illusion Blade. I want to see it."

Harry stepped back and nodded. He had come a long way since his first conjuration. His mind filling up with images of a shield many times powerful than the one he had already broken, he called into the powers of Chaos. The air around them became misty, as magic saturated through it, condensing into an enormous dagger a few metres above him. Slowly and subtly, Harry's palms stretched out and then, he opened his eyes, revealing his bright golden pupils, shining brightly like twin suns.

"Magnificent! Now let it go!"

Harry complied and the air around them turned natural again. "Any other news that I should know?"

"Well I did perform the arts of reflection this evening." Harry answered generally, as if talking about the weather.

Salazar's eyes thinned, "and who, was that unfortunate victim? "

"The Potions Professor, Severus Snape. He tried to legilimize me so I gave him a taste of his own medicine."

"Not that he deserves anything else." Harry muttered to himself.

"Okay, and which reflection art was it?"

"A Legilimency loop."

Salazar's eyes popped almost popped out. "Please... PLEASE... tell me he is at least alive."

"He is. He got what he deserved." Came Harry's rather cold reply.

"Indeed? Death penalty for trying to break into your mind?" Salazar asked sarcastically.

"Death Penalty for casting a forbidden curse on a werewolf, done in attempt of my murder."

"A forbidden curse? Which one?"

"Evigilabit ad monstrum" Harry intoned, it is from the-"

"Book of the Fallen titan. I presume Master Flamel allowed you his private collection."

Harry nodded.

"Very well. Master Flamel has asked me permission to take over your training in reality distortions and Illusory magicks. Hence from now onwards, we shall begin another magical art. The art of blood magick and its applications in rituals. I suppose you have been diligent and completed the homework I had given you."

"I did."

"Good. We begin from Sunday. I shall be away for the mean time, but you are free to continue your studies with Master Flamel. I would suggest these books-" he waved his hand and a couple of old tomes levitated onto the table-"for your self-study. Start with them and then we will continue from Sunday. That will be all."

Salazar vanished.

 _That was strange._

* * *

 **### I hope the Snape-haters are happy with what I did. Enjoy and review.**


	68. ROTS 24: Mysteries and mayhem

Knock. Knock.

"Oh for goodness' sake. Do come in."

She stepped into the room, looking at the only person still lying on his bed.

"Hello Ronald."

Ron quickly came up to his senses, hearing the familiar voice. "Hermione?"

Hermione smirked. A cruel smirk that floated on her luscious lips. She had definitely changed over the holidays; especially since her successful completion of the mission Borgin had forwarded to her. The new addition of eighty thousand galleons in her bank account also helped.

Ron shook himself up from his drowsiness, and sat up over his bed. At first sight, he could hardly believe that it was Hermione that was standing in front of him. Her hairs, no longer bushy and untamable, rather now they were rather silky and added to Hermione's sexuality. Her face had lost the baby fat and a fine heart shaped jawline had taken ground for appearance. She was definitely a bit more lean than previously, and perhaps a bit bustier as well. Ron could not stop but stare at her, his mind cloudy with lust, what with the way she was standing before him, her hips swayed to the left and that cruel smirk in her eyes.

"I figure that you like what you see... after all a pureblood like you does deserve only the best service, isn't it Ronald?" Hermione almost purred.

Ron found his lost confidence return to him as he felt emboldened by Hermione's words. He got down from the bed and walked up to her, noticing that the dorm-room was completely empty.

"Did you finally realize that your real position is down here, to service purebloods like me, and not be a know-it-all?" His hand courageously snaking around her slim waist.

Hermione simply smirked in return. "Anything you want. After all, you are a pureblood." She put her luscious arms over Ron's neck and whispered, "We have a lot to do."

The dorm-room door closed silently.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stood in front of the seventh-floor corridor, waiting impatiently. It was over twenty minutes since he had arrived. If it wasn't for the fact that Weasley was a good and punctual henchman, he would have had him ragged by the rest of the Slytherins for this behavior.

 _How long!_

A silvery spell cut through the air, missing him by an inch. Draco looked down, the area where the spell had hit had become completely scorched.

 _An acid spell?_

Draco heard a disturbance and another purple spell came out from nowhere. Draco jumped to his left, narrowly escaping what was essentially an explosion curse. The curse hit the statue next to him which blasted into smithereens.

 _What is happening?_

"WHO IS THERE?" Draco yelled out.

Silence.

Another of those acid spells shot out at him. This one hit his robe, slicing out a significant part of it. The edges of the robe, smeared in the acid, caught fire. Draco hastily threw off his robe, not caring that he was only in his boxers, standing in the middle of the corridor.

Someone was laughing.

He turned behind.

It was Ronald. Ronald Weasley.

"Why are you standing here in your boxers, Draco?" Ronald asked, still laughing.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING, FIRING THOSE SPELLS AT ME, YOU BASTARD?" Draco yelled at him, clutching at Ron's neck, making him gag out, desperate for breath.

"I... JUST CAME... HERE... UGHHGHH! LEAVE... ME!" Ronald bawled out.

"Then who did that?"

"Did what?"

"Shoot those spells at me?"

Ronald mused, as if in thought. "There is no one here, Draco. And where is your wand?"

Draco looked into his fallen robes, which were still burning.

His wand was missing.

"Weasley! Give me your robes! I can't go out like this. Give me your robes, quickly."

No answer.

"WEASLEY I DON'T LIKE WAITING I-"

There was no one there. Ronald was gone.

 _What is happening?_

There was a sharp pang of pain as a powerful stinging hex came and hit his buttocks. Draco yelped out in pain. He checked it out. A large welt had formed.

"IF THIS IS YOU WEASLEY THAT IS BEHIND THIS, YOU WILL RUE THIS DAY!"

No response.

Draco decided that running all the way down to the dungeons, in his birthday suit was perhaps a better idea than to stay here and suffer from the offensive spells. He wanted to run but his pride held him back.

"WHO ARE YOU? COME UP FRONT WHERE I CAN SEE YOU! WHAT KIND OF COWARD ARE YOU, ATTACKING FROM BEHIND?"

No answer.

A pale-yellow curse shot out of nowhere, hitting him in the neck. His eyes turned clouded for a second, but regained their original grey color soon enough.

Draco looked around. There was no one. He ran down the corridor, pride be damned. Spells shot right and left, stinging hexes, hitting him hard as he ran. He stumbled upon a statue and suddenly found himself wet with water, in the middle of a tiny pool. He blankly shook his head, as if trying to regain proper consciousness, when the temperature of the water began rising rapidly and his skin burned. Howling in agony, he managed to climb out of the tiny pool and gave a runner as fast as possible.

Draco had run down for almost thirty minutes now, the stairs kept coming, the corners kept coming, he kept on running, but somehow he had still not managed to reach the dungeons. His legs gave off as he stumbled down the floor, rolling down the stairs. Almost at the verge of losing consciousness, he looked up and saw hundreds of worms crawling down towards him, almost with frightening speed. He tried to manage to get up, but his wet legs slipped and he fell again. The worms were still approaching, and Draco was still on the floor. The worms kept coming, until now they were almost above him.

Draco closed his eyes in terror. He felt them enter through his eyes.

He shouted out in excruciating agony.

* * *

Everyone in the great hall was happily eating their lunch when they heard the rather loud howls of somebody crying out in pain. Immediately there was a buzz of whispers and the staff table were alert and stood up to check out what was wrong. They needn't have done that as immediately then, Draco Malfoy stumbled into the main hall, with nothing but his boxers on. His face was flushed, his bod swollen with welts all over and he seemed to be mortally scared of something or someone. Snape, ever the Slytherin-supporter, was down in a flash and grabbed Draco hard. The action did not seem to be correct since Draco began to howl in agony and tried to free himself from Snape's clutches, irrespective of whatever Snape might have been saying. Snape struggles with his attempts until there was a flash of crimson and Draco fell onto his shoulders, stunned and unconscious.

Snape looked up at the source of the spell. It was Mad-Eye-Moody, with his wand smoking in his left hand, his electric eye sharply looking at the stunned teenager.

"Sounded like a good idea!" he remarked in a rather gruff voice.

Snape nodded and flourished his wand out, transfiguring a blanket and covering Draco. Levitating the stunned boy, he went towards the Hospital wing, accompanied by the rest of the staff.

"I wonder what happened to him." Harry heard Ron say loudly to Crabbe and Goyle, as he sat with Daphne and the rest. His eyes wandered off to one person, only to find that she was busy eating her own lunch; although her hair not so bushy as before.

 _Strange._

* * *

The students had assembled for their first Defense against the Dark arts classes for the new term. Harry had heard a lot about Mad-Eye from the others and was anticipating an interesting class after all these years. Remus was definitely a good teacher but his focus had been mostly on dangerous creatures. It was point blank ironical that the main focus of a 'dangerous creature' was to teach the students about 'dangerous creatures'. Moody had been a Master-Auror, so Harry wondered if he could try and learn something interesting from the man.

Harry and the rest had entered the fourth-year defense classroom. As expected, Gryffindors and Slytherins had the majority of their classes together, including this one. It was rather ironical considering the fact that most of the Gryffindors and Slytherins hated each other on principle.

 _Dumbledore and his second-chances! Bloody old men and their endless quirks!_

The class was empty.

Harry and Daphne sat together on the second bench in a corner row. The students were whispering among them, about their absent DADA teacher when a sudden orange spell flashed out of nowhere, hitting a student who fell down unconscious. Another crimson light flashed and hit the class, one hitting the floor while the other hitting Lavender Brown, who was then held by Parvati Patil from falling off. Harry whipped his wand out, a large silver Protego forming around him. It was a low level shield, but at least if it fell, it would give him legitimate reasons for casting a more powerful shield without seeming as overtly arrogant. He radiated his aura and figured out the source of the oncoming spells. Someone was hiding behind the pillar next to the board, and that too, disillusioned.

Harry cast a powerful Effligo at the invisible opponent who hastily deflected it away, losing his disillusionment in the process.

It was Mad-Eye-Moody.

"Well done Potter. I can see how you handed everyone else their arses in the tournament. Everybody see, he not only protected himself and his friend but also managed to identify the attacker, that is, me. As I always say, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

He allowed the class to come to a level of normality.

"I am Alastor Moody. I was in the Auror Force for fifteen years and then as Master Auror for another ten years, during the last war that is. I am retired and occasionally I have to teach some lads and lasses from the Auror Academy on how to actually stay alive. Your Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has somehow confounded me into accepting this post for a year. Yes, I will be gone by the end of this school term. As of now, I am here to teach you how to actually hold your wand properly, and by merlin if you can do that successfully, I will show you some nice things." He finished in his usual gruff voice.

There was pin-drop silence in class. Every face focused on Moody.

"Now, I have gotten permission from Dumbledore to teach you about the Unforgivables. After all, the terrorists out there aren't going to play 'let's-fire-stunners-at-each-other-and-go-home' with you. In today's class, we shall learn about the Unforgivables. We shall-"

"But aren't they illegal? And evil?" Lavender Brown questioned, standing up.

Alastor Moody dropped his line of conversation and stared at the blond girl. Lavender felt a bit... uneasy at his stare.

"Tell me lass, what are the offensive spells that you know?"

"I... I can do the body-bind curse, and the disarming charm."

"HA-HA!" roared the odd professor with laughter. "very efficient spells you have got there. Tell me lass, do you know the levitation charm?"

Lavender gulped. "Wingardium Leviosa."

"Right in one." Moody replied. He whipped his wand towards one of the larger chandeliers on the ceiling and the chandelier broke off from the edges, and floated according to Moody's intent.

"Tell me lass, what would happen if I levitated this chandelier and dropped it over your head?"

"I would get severely injured."

"You would die." Moody countered harshly. "Painfully."

Lavender gulped.

"What if I told you, that if I hit you with a killing curse, you would die without feeling any pain? Which is better?"

Lavender's face was flushed. "The second one."

The class was stunned.

"Open your eyes, you little blighters. We all fear what we do not understand." Moody's voice rang out. "I want you all to read the first chapter on hexes before we move on to Unforgivables. Class dismissed."

* * *

"That was an intense lesson." Daphne remarked.

Harry nodded, inwardly excited at the prospect of finally having a defense teacher who knew his thing. Say what you will about his outer appearance, nobody could deny that Alastor Moody knew his stuff.

"let's go."

"Did you hear what happened to Malfoy?"

"I heard he had to be stunned and his body was bound, that also just so that he could be treated." Tracy replied from beside.

Harry kept on walking without saying anything. Somehow he felt that there was something that he was missing. First the attack on him and his friends, and then the attack on Malfoy. The mystery was getting out of hand and Harry had still been unable to do anything.

"I heard Draco was yelling like anything and claiming that Weasley would pay." Blaise remarked.

Harry stopped. "Ron? No way."

"You still believe that the traitor is too good for that?" Blaise countered.

"No I believe he is too bad for that. Malfoy was overwhelmed and the way he was running, there could be two reasons for it. First is if someone was actively cursing him all through the floors to down the hall; and as stupid as Weasley is, I do not think him capable of that feat. The other possible reason, is if Draco was under some form of-" Harry's eyes widened, "-illusion."

Hastily he began, "I'm sorry guys, you move on. I will join you later. Bye."

"but Harr-" Daphne began, but Harry was already gone.

* * *

Harry raced down to the Chamber and began furiously searching through the library. He knew that if an illusory attack existed in a personalized spell format, it would be here. After searching through two books, he turned towards Salazar's own creation, 'The illusory arte.'

"It has to be somewhere-it has to be some—it has to—ahaa! Found it!"

"The illusory arte can be personalized into standard spell format but such a spell could only be created by a rune circle adaption of spell interpolation techniques. Weiss also goes on to say that such a spell would be temporary and would require a lot of patient effort, as transmuting chaotic energy into standard spells would be a nasty business in itself. The process could theoretically be done if-DAMN! Not even here!"

 _If a spell was not used, then what was it?_

Harry banged his fist on the shelf, some of the dust falling off with the disturbance.

* * *

Ron Weasley hated being in trouble. First he was in trouble during the Quidditch final with his wand being stolen and all, and then he had found that the thief had cast the bloody dark mark-thingy with it. Ron for the life of him, could not figure out what was going on. He had joined Draco so that he would get fame and a share in wealth, but now even that seemed far-fetched.

At least the term had begun nicely. Hermione had come to him personally, and the two of them had enjoyed together, the sexual satisfaction still clung to Ron's lips and fingers. It was bliss. It was nice that the know-it-all mudblood had finally understood the hierarchy of the wizarding world. At least, he would get some real action while it lasted.

And then, Draco had to go and get himself attack, and the outrageous thing, he blamed him for the attack. Ron was flabbergasted. McGonagall had ordered him to submit his wand for introspection, and by Merlin's baggy underpants, a nasty set of curses including acid spells, explosive spells and then some, were found to be casted by him. What was more, even the magical signature matched with him, despite him being inside his dormitory with Hermione having... Ron blushed.

And now he was being accused for the attack.

Ron had loudly claimed that he was away inside his dormitory, sleeping but even Dumbledore had not believed him. He had felt Dumbledore looking at him through those half-moon glasses and then had proclaimed that he did not believe Ron. It was an outrage. He could have said Hermione's name but it would not help matters and over everything else, he would lose his personal fun with her. Hermione was rather vicious; the shackles she had conjured the previous year was still vivid in his mind. There was no way he would bring Hermione into this mess.

And now, he had heard that Lucius Malfoy was seen in Hogwarts.

 _Bloody brilliant._

* * *

 **###AUTHOR'S NOTE: My third chapter for the day and perhaps the last for today. I am finally happy to continue with the school events and add up a cruel twist to existing canon and fanon clichés. I even got to use Ron's 'bloody brilliant' in a surprisingly sarcastic tone, and got to get Malfoy get a taste of his own medicine. All in all, bloody brilliant. Please read and review. And of course, Merry Christmas in advance!**


	69. ROTS 25: Slytherin Maneuvers

"Master Flamel! Master Flamel!" Harry barged into the library of the Flamel Mansion. His mind was completely boggled with the fact that someone was using illusion based spells, and that he, despite his running two-year training with Masters of forbidden arts, he was completely at sea. For the life of him, he had still not been able to figure out who the attacker that had attacked Daphne repeatedly the last year. And now this...

It drove Harry mad.

"Why are you yelling like a barging braying ass? Have you no sense of public mannerisms?" Nicholas chastised his young apprentice. Harry looked down in shame. Nicholas sighed.

"What do you want?"

"Someone used an illusion curse on Malfoy, a spell to be exact. And I don't believe that I could not even find out the spell." Harry complained.

"That's because you are an idiot." Nicholas chastised. "An Illusion spell? Sounds like a misnomer. And coming from you too. You should know very well that Illusions are Chaotic magic, and spells are regulated magic. Get the point? You cannot have chaotic energy regulated."

"I know. But then, what could have happened?"

"Figure it out yourself. Use the thing between your ears." Nicholas nodded his head impassively. He looked at his young apprentice in a sardonic way, and extended his palm up, forcing his surly apprentice away through the distortion gateway.

* * *

"Get off me! Get off me! GET OFF ME!" Draco jumped off his bed, his sudden wails, waking up everyone else. Immediately, Madam Pomfrey, Snape and Lucius Malfoy sprang unto him, holding him back from behaving erratically again.

Draco wailed and wailed, his arms waving wildly, his senses out of order. He tried to stop the worms from entering his ears and mouth, but to no success. The spells kept on coming, the boiling water kept on burning his skin, and the worms... the hated worms, they were everywhere. Where was his father? Where was everyone?

"Somebody do something." Lucius screamed out in despair.

Severus whipped out his wand and sent another stunner, making Draco fall off unconscious all over again. "What is happening to him Poppy?"

Poppy Pomfrey gathered herself. She had handled hundreds of cases in the past decades but this was something that had her befuddled. "Physically he is completely fine. The welts have been cured, the effects of the other curses neutralized. His physical self is completely in peak condition." She paused for a while, "his mental health however seems his mind is under the effects of some kind of _illusion_ or something." She did not notice Dumbledore suddenly glance at her at the mention of Illusion, and continued. "His core is unresponsive to standard detection techniques and is rejecting every potion I am injecting into him. Hence so far as it goes, I am clueless about what to do."

"I knew; I always knew that the Hogwarts staff was useless." Lucius Malfoy scorned, "Dumbledore, I am taking my son away for private treatment and I promise you, your dear Weasleys will pay for their transgressions."

Dumbledore looked rather unaffected by his comment. "If the Weasleys are truly responsible, I will not stop you, however I'm not sure if they're the true culprit. Now, please excuse me." Dumbledore walked out of the hospital wing.

* * *

"You called for me, Headmaster?"

"Ah Mr. Potter, please come in." Harry nodded warily. For a man who almost always referred to him as Harry, to suddenly be formal was not natural. "Sure. Headmaster."

"I will be direct with you; did you use illusory attacks on Draco Malfoy?"

 _This isn't happening! No way!_

"Excuse me Headmaster, but let me get this clear. You are accusing me for the attack on Malfoy? Especially when you yourself found Weasley's magical signature on the spells?"

"I admit at first I did think that young Ronald was the culprit. But the investigation suggests that given the nature of the attack, it could not be him. He is too… innocent for that. You however, are known for your resourcefulness and considering your altercation with Mr. Malfoy and your traversing into the path of illusion magicks, I can't not stop myself from looking at you as a suspect."

"How naïve! You can leave a teenager alone with his executioner and still you are the grand old man of the Light. And just because I am into something that you don't have the capability to learn, makes me a suspect even though I was clearly with my friends in the great Hall. How benevolent and just administrator you are, Brian."

"It is Headmaster or Professor to you. Show proper respect where it is given."

"It is Lord Slytherin to you Headmaster. Show proper respect where social stature is concerned." Harry smirked. The taunt on the old man's capabilities had perhaps hit home.

"I am disappointed in you, Harry. Right now you seem to be so very similar to the boy who went on to become Voldemort." Dumbledore claimed, his face filled with disappointment.

 _He dares… He dares compare me to that abomination._

"Don't worry Brian. The feeling is mutual. Right now, you seem to be so very similar to the willy old man who must have mentally maimed the young boy so much that he went on to become Voldemort."

With that parthian shot, he turned around and moved towards the door.

"Goodnight Headmaster." Harry left the office.

* * *

"I can't believe that the old man would be so bent on blaming me. And plus, I still have no idea what to do about it."

"You know; I would have thought that Hermione would be a better suspect." Daphne remarked.

"I know Ron and Malfoy had attacked her in the train, but she had already punished Weasley rather well…. Why would she again-?"

"WHAT?" Harry remarked with exasperation, when he felt Daphne stare back at him blankly.

"You really don't know what had happened the day when I was attacked?"

"Yes, you had gone up to talk to her and all that. Why did you even do such a thing?"

"So you don't know. Weasley and Malfoy had sabotaged her potion causing her to fail. She knew that they were responsible but without proof. Even Snape had ignored her protests completely."

"The attack does seem like a revenge. Malfoy was attacked and Weasley was duped, and framed. And no one can point fingers on Hermione."

Daphne nodded. "Harry, I won't force you to answer. But I have seen you worry about Granger, and yet you avoid her like anything. Why? Maybe you could talk to her about it."

"Daphne it's…... complicated." Harry began hesitantly, "I will tell you about it, just not now."

"Fair enough." Daphne replied, returning to her essay.

"You know, if you are not being able to find clues, perhaps you should try some Slytherin tactics."

"Like what?" Harry challenged.

"I don't know. You are the Lord Slytherin, and the one who is being the Mr. Moral Fiber all over the situation." Daphne replied sassily.

Harry frowned.

* * *

 **THE NEXT MORNING.**

"Hermione."

Hermione looked up from her essay on remedial potions. "What can the mudblood do for you,Lord Potter?"

Harry simply stared at her.

"What? I did hear your conversation with Draco, about you being the head of the most Ancient and noble House of Potter." She said, her hands conveying in a rather animatic fashion.

"Hermione I know that our friendship broke after that incident, but your attitude did not help matters either. And I do know about the tome you are using, it is corrupting your magic."

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME ABOUT CORRUPTION AND MAGIC. YOU BETRAYED ME. YOU THREW ME AWAY, YOU SAT AND WATCHED WHEN MALFOY AND WEASLEY ATTACKED ME AND SABOTAGED MY EFFORTS TO STUDY! SO DON'T YOU DARE HARRY POTTER, ACCUSE ME OF ANYTHING!"

"I never even accused you of anything. Why would you…. Is there something you have done that you can accused of?"

"uhhhhhghh-GET OUT FROM MY SIGHT!" Hermione boomed in anger. The desks and benches began vibrating furiously, a testament to her fury. Harry stood his ground, not even shifting back an inch, something which enraged her further. She whipped her wand out, Harry noticed the darkening at the edges of the otherwise light brown wand.

"That tome is not what you think it is, Hermione. I know how the magic feels, it's power is intoxicating, and I know the feeling of invulnerability that comes with it. But it is not true, Hermione. It will destroy you from within."

"It's quite brave of you, Harry, to stand there and lecture me while you yourself immersed in them much before I had even known. You legilimized me, and yet nobody punished you for that. After all, you are Harry Potter and I am just a little mudblood." She sneered.

 _She is comparing my pathetic attempt at Legilimency to Magic moste evile?_

Harry looked at her incredulously. "You are not yourself Hermione." He could not believe how much Hermione's mind had been addled by the Dark Arts she had been practicing. He knew that she had the tome. By Magic, Hermione herself had admitted that she had the tome, but there was really nothing that could be done about it. Nicholas had told him much about the tomes.

 **FLASHBACK**

"In the world of forbidden magicks, there are three most vicious and legendary tomes that are beyond all. They are deadly, they are intoxicating, and they are the most powerful means for the Chaos to try and manifest itself in the mortal realms. Three tomes, three stacks of parchment, three illusions or ambitious people, three ways to descend to madness...get your hand at one of the books, and you are a window for the Chaos to manifest itself."

"Three?"

"Yes. _The Book of the Fallen Titan_ is one. And then there is the most powerful of them all, _Magick moste evile_. The third book was created after a person I knew too well fell into the illusion of the Chaos and lost himself."

" _Secrets of the Darkest Art_?"

Nicholas turned to face him. "So Sal told you. Yes, it was his father that created the book. After living six hundred years of study, research and falling into the clutches of the Chaos, his father had been motivated to create that abomination from scratch. Not as dangerous or deadly as the other two, comparatively safe, but after the centuries of being in contact with the magicks in it, the tome must surely have been converted into something equally pernicious."

"What is so dangerous about them? My... friend Hermione has been seduced by at least... one of them."

"And has she shown any of the identification signals?"

 _Identification signals?_

Nicholas sighed. "Come with me."

He had taken him to a part of his library. Taking out an old tome out of a shelf, he turned back to him. "The Illusion Master's guild is not just a cult of people seeking to acquire the deadly magicks of reality distortion. We are... a watchtower of sorts. We have been there, standing on watch always, since the beginning of civilization. We are the last stand against the Chaos from bringing death and destruction to our world."

Harry nodded, trying to understand everything.

"As you know, all raw energy and magick comes from the Wild, or the Chaos Dimension if you call it that. A place with endless reserves of primal energy. The place which is free from creation, metamorphosis and destruction. However, the sad twist about it is that the more effectively we bring magick into our world, the more we acquire the other face of the Dimension. The face of death, of destruction, of Chaos. The more we extract energy and magick to serve our own purposes, the more does the Chaos want them back. It is an endless loop. Whenever the balance of the loop tends to get out of natural order, the Chaos tries to manifest itself, in various ways and forms. Sometimes in the form of tomes, sometimes affecting wizards and seducing them to become dark lords, and well, you know, it even procured itself a magic-damned Elemental. After Orion was defeated, we tried our hands at destroying the tomes, but simply said, they were _indestructible_. It has been noticed that whenever these tomes find a witch or wizard that are potentially powerful enough to wield them, they somehow cross their path. Again and again. It is like a self-fulfilling prophecy. It waits and waits, until the conditions are met so that the prophecy can come true. The tomes are free from the reigns of space and time, manifesting themselves whenever and wherever they sense someone they can use and manipulate, and bring the harbinger of death into the world."

"Like Voldemort?"

"Like Voldemort."

Nicholas held out the tome. Harry looked at the cover.

 _ **Codex Imperium.**_

"This book," Nicholas began, "is something that all Illusion Masters have studied and memorized to heart. It contains the identification signals for the curses, enchantments, spells and rituals that those three tomes contain. Whenever you find a practitioner that has crossed the realm of normal dark magic, you must try to ascertain if he or she has been studying from those tomes by identifying the signals. For the next week, you shall learn everything out of this book and only then, we shall move to further Illusory attacks."

Harry nodded in silence. There was a question bugging in his mind.

"Speak out your mind apprentice."

Harry looked up. "I have been wondering something. It is proved fact that I am much stronger and potent than my friend Hermione ever was. Then why is it that the tomes chose to manifest before her? I mean, why not before me?"

Nicholas smirked. "Are you telling me that you have never heard or seen any of the tomes?"

"No." Harry continued. "It was _Salazar_ that showed me his father's book. I got the Book of the Fallen Titan from _your_ library. And I have seen the Magick moste evile _in the library of the Chamber_."

Nicholas smirked. "You do know that I never misplace any books out of my library. Don't you?"

"Of course. You are even worse than Madam Pince."

"Well then, let's go and find the book you read from my library. I give you my word that I have not even touched that tome after you left it back."

They searched the library for hours.

The tome wasn't there.

"What the hell? Where is that damned tome?"

"Language, apprentice." Nicholas smirked.

"Sorry."

"So where is that tome? I must have misplaced it somewhere."

"You didn't. The tome came to you, wanting to seduce you, but you were not. Hence, it shifted its attention to some other witch or wizard."

"You mean-"

"Yes."

Harry could only stare blankly.

"Once a practitioner begins the rituals from any of the three forbidden tomes, it is completely useless to try stop them by physical and magical means." Nicholas began.

"So they are _undefeatable_ or something?"

"No. What I meant is that once you begin with one of the tomes, there is no way you can be separated from them. No wards can stop them; no magic can hinder them. Unless you are dead, there _is no_ way by which _I_ can stop you from using them."

" _Unless I myself stop using them by my own free will."_

"Spot-on!" Nicholas smirked.

"So the only way to stop Hermione from using them would be-"

"Show her, make her face the fact that she has indeed been descending into chaotic madness."

"But Salazar had completely _forbidden_ me from being in her presence."

"That was a different case then. Your magick was in flux, but now it is stable. You can interact with her without harm."

 _So I need to talk to a person who hates me, and has already tried to potion me. She has already descended into madness and has been practicing deadly magicks. And I need to try and make her understand that she is going insane._

" _So no pressure."_ He heard Nidhogg snigger.

Harry did not know whether to laugh or cry.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

Harry looked at her, a sly idea forming in his mind. "You know Hermione, the magical signature behind the attack was indeed Weasley's, but then, Dumbledore has found certain... evidences in Weasley's mind. He will be performing Legilimency on Ronald today evening."

"The signature of the spells is Weasleys', there is no way you can implicate-" Hermione began furiously.

"Yes, but the magic that was used on Ron was yours. I am sure Dumbledore will be able to construe a spell signature out of your Illusion." Harry replied, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"NO!" Hermione recoiled with horror. "I will not let that happen! You are lying to me Harry Potter. My mind is not so easy to read and manipulate as it was before."

"Yes, Yes, I know that you have your ritual-based Occlumency shields," he observed Hermione's face blanch.

 _So she does have ritual-based Occlumency shields. Spot on!_

He did not allow that surprise to manifest on his face. Keeping his poker-face intact, he continued. "Your shields may stop you from being confounded from external attacks, but not on the ones _you cast on yourself_."

 _I am hitting a dragon in the eye. Standing right in front of it. Godric would be proud._

"You… you are calling me insane?" Hermione countered back, slowly and dangerously. Her wand whipped into her hand, the entrails expelling curse at her lips, she was just about to curse him to death when a crimson glow subdued her senses and she fell down.

Stunned.

Standing just behind her, wand raised, was Daphne Greengrass; her wand raised.

"It seemed you needed some help." She shrugged.

"Thanks, but honestly I was expecting to make her angrier." Harry shrugged.

"WHAT? WHY?" Daphne asked, flabbergasted.

"Did you see the way she was going to curse me?"

"She was going to curse you and that was enough; bollocks to 'how'."

"Quite Gryffindorish thinking." Harry chuckled.

"Oh hush you!" she hit him on his shoulder, eliciting a slight 'oww!' from her boyfriend. "So what are we to do with her?"

"My hunch was correct. It was her that cursed Malfoy. And now, she will help me prove it."

"But- you just said that Dumbledore will be able to construe the spell and figure out it was her."

Harry looked at Daphne in the eye. "There is no way to construe spell signatures from illusion attacks."

"But-then- You said."

Harry could not hold back. His sly smile now transformed into a full blown smirk. "I know we can't. You know we can't. But Hermione doesn't."

Daphne gaped blankly.

* * *

 **####MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! I am back with another chapter for the day. Hopefully you will enjoy it, and if you do, please review.**


	70. ROTS 26: Revenge and OWLS

_She stood up from the ritual slab... her head hurting like hell... the body of Augustin Montague lying naked beside her... she walked up to the runic circle._

 _Her hands outstretched up, the fatigue in her muscles showing themselves... it had been hard..._

 _She thrust her palms on the two sharp ritual stones, the blood flowing out and washing them with red..._

" _ **Purdeb ar gyfer Cryfder...**_

 _ **Purdeb ar gyfer Cryfder...**_

 _ **Purdeb ar gyfer Cryfder...**_

 _ **et potestas tenebrarum**_ _ **!**_ _ **"**_

 _She chanted. Her body shivering in the aftermath..._

 _Raw power flowing vigorously through her... it was so enticing... so much better than the time she spent with the naked man on the slab..._

 _Her bright eyes now cold and yet, more energetic than before... her new luscious hair and her beautiful face marred by a mysterious darkness..._

 _She felt beautiful..._

 _ **I like this.**_

" _Hermione..."_

 _The cold powerful voice reverberated all around her..._

" _Come to me..."_

" _Where are you?" She shouted._

" _Come to me... embrace me... make my power yours..."_

 _The tome glowed._

 _ **Is it the tome?**_

" _Come to me..."_

 _Hermione walked up and held up the tome... she opened it..._

 _The tome glowed with eldritch energies..._

" _You are mine... My power is yours, Hermione Granger, but your magick and your soul... is mine..."_

 _There was a sound of cold, deadly laughter reverberating all around as the pale green eldritch energies consumed her senses._

* * *

Hermione woke up. This was the fifth time she had had the same dream. Briefly, she wondered what she was doing. Her memories returned immediately, making her tremble in fury...

Harry... Potter... he had called her insane...

And then...

Someone had stunned her...

They would pay...

But.

Ronald. She had to get to him. There was no way that she would get out of all this without her revenge being complete. Draco had suffered. And so will Ronald. And much more.

And then...

She would finally have her revenge on Harry Potter.

She would make sure that he lost everything. And then, when he would be all alone and lost... she would make him hers...

 _Forever..._

* * *

Ronald Weasley was sitting alone in the dorm next to the Headmaster's office. Lucius Malfoy had called the Aurors and at the moment, said Aurors were busy quarrelling over with his parents, about his conviction. Draco had seen him, he had muttered his name many times in pain, he had been gravely wounded, and the spells had Ron's signature on him.

In other words, Ron was screwed.

"May be I should mention Hermione's name and implicate her in this? At least, I would get saved. Maybe I can say that she was in this with Potter and they had framed him. But if I don't keep Hermione out of this, I shall be missing all the action I can get with her... Bloody hell, what do I do?"

He pondered over the fact for a moment. But no one had ever accused Ron Weasley to be a genius. He got bored of sitting alone and decided to take things as they came.

Opening up one of his favorite Chuddley-Canon magazines, the red-head started to read.

* * *

"I'm telling you for the last time, my son is innocent. He has been framed." Screeched the mother Weasley while Arthur tried his best to tackle the situation keeping his head cool. He knew that screeching and screaming did not help in the situation his son was in. Merlin knew he was beyond furious at his son ever since he had joined the cohorts of Lucius Malfoy. No good had come out of ever associating with that family. Weasleys and Malfoys had always hated each other on principle. Why his son had ditched Harry and joined his arch-enemy, Arthur would never understand. Ever since the end of the previous year, his son had been sprouting off Pureblood propaganda and relishing upon the wealthy gifts and clothes Malfoy had sent for him. And now, this...

 _Bloody Malfoys!_

Arthur gritted his teeth in anger.

"Mr. Dawlish, you have to understand, my son has been implicated and framed in this situation. Dumbledore, please tell them they are wrong!" Arthur pleaded the old man.

"I know you are right, Arthur, but I have no proof to the otherwise. Legally, I am helpless."

"HELPLESS? YOU ARE THE CHIEF WARLOCK, YOU ARE THE GREATEST WIZARD, YOU AND HELPLESS? PLEASE HELP US, HEADMASTER PLEASE!"

Dumbledore shook his head in disappointment. "Until there is evidence to the contrary, there is nothing that can be done. Aurors, please come with me."

* * *

Hermione barged into Ron's dormitory. Ron, looking up and seeing her, felt a thrill of joy inside him. Even though his conviction was being discussed next door, somehow the feeling of having Hermione close to him seemed to hold a much greater priority for him.

"Hermione, have you come to have some fun again?"

Hermione smirked slyly. The oaf was a complete fool.

"Why yes, Ronald. I have indeed come for that. But before the fun begins, we need to do something."

"Anything for you." Ronald declared, his face flushed and his eyes dazed.

Perfect.

"Look into my eyes. Ronald!"

Ronald was only too happy to oblige.

" _Legilimens!"_

* * *

"Harry? Why are we here relaxing? Shouldn't we take note of what Hermione does next?" Daphne asked. They were sitting next to the lake, spending their Sunday.

"We have done what was to be done. Now all we can do is rest and let the situation play out on its own."

"And you are sure of this?"

Harry nodded in confidence.

 _Hopefully._

Harry saw Theo Nott run towards him. Coming to him, panting, he said. "Did you know Aurors have come to the castle to arrest Weasley?"

 _Fuck. That wasn't supposed to happen._

"Let's go." He caught Daphne's hand.

"Where?"

"To Weasley. If Hermione does something dangerous, then they will lock her up in Azkaban, and she will be lost to us forever."

Daphne blinked.

"Let's go."

* * *

Weasley had a hormonal cesspool of a mind. That much was clear. What was not was the fact that she could not find any of his memories of her casting Illusion magic on him. Hermione decided to search everything out more clearly. Weasley's mind would be shattered, but it was collateral damage.

Hermione dove in.

After minutes of searching again, she found nothing. It was as if someone had obliviated Weasley's mind. But how could that be possible? She had herself locked that section of his memories away. Those memories could not be viewed or obliviated. She needed to find that memory, and she needed to know what her magical signature for the Illusion was like.

After an eternity of searching, she finally found out the memory. She was about to dive in, but then she heard footsteps approaching. She needed to be quick.

She dove in.

The memory played. Again and again.

But Hermione could not get any magical signature anywhere.

It was simply not there.

But how could that be possible. It was as if, there wasn't any magical signature at all.

But that meant-

OH MERLIN!

"Incarcerous!" A rather womanly voice shouted out, as Hermione felt herself bound by ropes, falling down beside Ronald Weasley, whose eyes were wide-open and blood was trickling down his eyes.

"Miss Granger! What is the meaning of this!" McGonagall screeched.

Hermione was dumbfounded. This wasn't happening. She couldn't have been caught.

"I... I don't know Professor. I must have been confounded or something."

"Confounded enough to do a Legilimency attack?" the Scottish woman countered.

"Enough!" Dumbledore yelled. "let us take this to my office. Send for Poppy, clearly Mr. Weasley needs medication."

"That won't be required Headmaster," came the voice of Auror Dawlish. "Legilimency attempt on a teenager is a crime, and the suspect has to be taken for a trial."

"Auror Dawlish I must insist there is-" Dumbledore began.

"You may insist all you want, Professor, but we need to take her for the trial. Auror Tonks, take her away."

The pink haired woman, Tonks, strode up to Hermione. Hermione looked up to hear more footsteps and saw Harry run into the room.  
It enraged her beyond anything.

"NO! THIS IS NOT FAIR! I WAS IMPLICATED! YOU CANNOT TAKE ME AWAY!" Hermione roared. "I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE ON YOU, HARRY POTTER!"

The ropes were useless against her. She felt them loosen as she whipped her wand out and fired out a burst of raw energy. The spell was sickly yellow and it shot towards Harry.

 _The entrails-expelling curse._

Before Harry could raise a shield, a brilliant Protego formed in front of him. The spell hit the shield, shattered it into pieces but along with it. The spell was also gone.

In an instant, the ropes that had Hermione incapacitated suddenly broke off, as her eyes glowed a brilliant red. There was a sudden influx of raw energy all around her, and with it. Hermione was gone.

 _Crap._

Harry felt someone slowly fall down on her knees. It was Daphne.

"Daph! Daph?" he shouted.

"That spell really took a lot of my strength to resist!" Daphne panted.

"Why did you do that? I could have stopped it myself."

"She was trying to hurt you!" Daphne gave him a blank stare, as if that answered everything.

Harry looked at her blankly.

"She needs some rest, Mr. Potter." McGonagall replied from the background. Madam Pomfrey had come in by this time and was getting Mr. Weasley laid into a bed.

"Harry! I am sorry I accused and suspected you-" began the Headmaster.

"Your apology is neither wanted nor appreciated, Headmaster." Harry replied back stiffly.

"I will take her to the Hospital Wing." Harry took Daphne up in his arms, and carried her bridal style towards the Hospital wing.

* * *

 **THE NEXT MORNING.**

Harry was over to the Slytherin table, having his breakfast on with his betrothed and his friends. Daphne had been cleared the previous night although Poppy had told her to take things slow for the day. The shield had taken quite a lot from her, almost nearing magical exhaustion. Not that Daphne had low magical reserves, it was simply that her choice of shielding was poor. Had she used a higher shield, she would have been fine. Use of a poor shield to resist such a powerful spell had taken a lot of her magic to sustain it from shattering. When it had finally shattered, the backlash had her down on her knees.

"You should try some of this, Daph!" Harry insisted.

Daphne shifted her face. The backlash from yesterday had made her feel very... disoriented. It had made her so fussy, and it irritated her. Tori was the fussy one, she was the proper one.

"Don' wanna-"

Harry smirked. He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the dish. Taking a spoonful, he said. "Say Aahhhh..."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. She took a bite. "Yummy!"

Harry smirked. Several "aww's" could be heard from all the tables.

Daphne blushed.

The morning paper had arrived via owl. Harry was busy feeding Daphne and suddenly he noticed the unnatural silence that pervaded the Great Hall. He ignored the feeling and went back to his meal.

The feeling of being watched still hung over his senses. Finally overwhelmed, he looked up.

The entire Great Hall was staring at him.

 _Oh what happened now?_

Somebody pushed him the day's paper. He saw the headlines.

 _Oh._

Pandemonium.

* * *

 **YOUNGEST WIZARD TO CRACK HIS OWLS WITH EXTRAORDINARY RESULTS!**

 **Nearly a month ago, our own Harry Potter had created history by being the winner of this year's International Dueling Tournament. Just after that, he had saved the lives of some very important foreign dignitaries. If we also count the events since 1991, it seems that young Harry Potter is on his way to accomplish being a legend. From the youngest to cast a corporeal Patronus to the youngest person to ever kill a basilisk to many more, Harry Potter has once again shocked and rocked the Wizarding world by his latest accomplishment.**

 **This reporter wishes to state that she has indeed got this confidential information from her personal sources, and before even the results reach, we have the results of Mr. Potter's self-tested OWL examinations. Yes, my readers, at age thirteen, the young man has tested out of Hogwarts, and not only tested success fully, but also the results are exemplary.**

 **Below are the outstanding results of the young Lord.**

 **Transfiguration—Outstanding (T & P) with honors.**

 **Charms- Outstanding (T & P) with honors.**

 **Defense against the Dark Arts- Outstanding (T & P) with honors**

 **Arithmancy- Outstanding (T) with honors.**

 **Ancient Runes- Outstanding (T) with honors.**

 **Dueling- Outstanding (P) with honors.**

 **[ T FOR THEORY AND P FOR PRACTICAL ]**

 **As you can see for yourself, the results of the young Lord are exemplary. Madam Marchbanks, the Head of the WEA was seen commenting.**

" **Six months ago if someone would have asked me about my most memorable OWL invigilation, I would have told them one name- Albus Dumbledore. He had demonstrated a masterful ability in magic. Did things with a wand I could never imagine- Now however, that title has surely been forwarded to Mr. Harry James Potter, and nobody would defy that, not after his exemplary performance."**

 _Fuck. Now the old man will be more distraught._

Harry turned over the page and read.

 **This reporter wonders why Mr. Potter had to test out of Hogwarts, that too in his third year. Perhaps he had already self-studied everything? Or was it something else? Is this another aspect of the mystery of the Boy-who-lived? So this reporter decided to dig out for some more information. And she did find out some shocking information. Yes, my readers, Mr. Potter has indeed registered for NEWT testing at the Ministry for this year, said testing to occur in November. One wonders how much more will the prodigious abilities of Mr. Potter shall continue to shine and surprise us?**

 _Shit. She even got the registration details. This was unexpected._

Harry looked up at the Hall. People were staring at him, as if he had sprouted an extra-head. He turned to Daphne. Her lips were tight.

 _Oops. Not a good sign._

Daphne looked at him pointedly, her eyes clearly giving off the questions- "When were you going to tell me this?" and "you shall suffer".

Harry gulped.

 _Definitely not a good sign._

"Mr. Potter. Is this true?" McGonagall's voice boomed through the hall. Harry was lucky Dumbledore was absent from the Hall for some reason, else Magic help him, the old man would have perhaps attacked him bodily.

However, this was not a time for daydreaming about gladiatorial wrestling matches between him and the old man. He turned to the Scottish woman and nodded.

There was a flapping of wings and a ministry owl swooped down into the hall, dropping a rather neatly packed bundle before him. There was the seal of the WEA over it.

 _Over-kill indeed!_

* * *

 **###So I guess that solves the matter with the OWLS. Since he tested out of Hogwarts, and obviously it was confidential as was shown by Tonks, until the results were out no one including the Professors could know, what had happened. As for the classes, they will change (some will, some... not so much) . Read and review.**


	71. ROTS 27: Discussions

The staff room was quite a messy place. Had Harry not been here, he would have thought that the room was perhaps one of the immaculately cleaned and tidied rooms in the castle. However, one should also consider that wizards and witches in general, regarded downright clean rooms as ' _unnatural_ '. As a pink haired bubby Auror would have confirmed, ' _the right amount of mess_ ' is exactly what distinguishes between a muggle and a wizard residence.

Harry sat midway opposite to a rather large U-shaped table where his professors sat, interrogating him about the future of his education in the school. Had Harry known that the school would have such a reaction, he would have thought better than testing out of Hogwarts. However, that was past and hence, of no reverence any more. He steadied himself for the long conversations ahead.

"As I have rightly said before, Potter can't help but show off. Though I myself cannot believe how Potter of all people pulled this 'miracle' off, but I sense some foul play in this." Severus sneered. Harry wondered why the man sneered so much. Too much sneering kind of ... put of the actual impact of a sudden sneer. He wondered if Malfoy and his cronies took some kind of 'sneering' lessons from Snape; although he wouldn't have denied learning how to do that 'billowing cloak' thing. It was very mysterious. Snape may have tried to kill Harry, but then again, lots of people did that too. That was no reason not to learn about that 'cloak-billowing'; or at least, Harry thought so.

The last night had been very... exhausting for him. He had recklessly destroyed whatever the Room of Requirement sent towards him. He hadn't shielded, or blocked or parried spells and enchantments away. No, he had simply obliterated anything and everything that the Room had thrown towards him. The amount of energy he was recklessly throwing off was astounding and the Room had started to get heated up. He was lucky that Nidhogg had furiously intervened else he might have destroyed one of the finest rooms in the entire castle. But one positive thing had come out of that destruction. His anger and frustration had almost ebbed away. The keyword being _'almost'._

He had met with Daphne afterwards. She had peeped out of the Slytherin common room to find him, and when she had finally found him, she had bullied him into going to the third floor corridor, where they had sat with each other and talked. The talk had transformed into a rant for Harry but after everything was said and done, Harry was free of his frustrations regarding Hermione and had decided to skip the issue and focus on the present. The next hour that he had spent snogging with his betrothed might have reinforced his decision.

* * *

Harry ebbed his thoughts away and focused back to the present. It was all the same. Snape and Minerva were quarreling like two sister-wives over a common husband; Flitwick looked bored, although he managed to keep his poker-face; and Babbling and Vector were busy in... whatever they were doing.

"Umm... Professors?" Harry urged. It was quite odd sitting in here, looking at the seniors quarreling.

Snape and Minerva both gave him a dirty look, but then Minerva softened and said, "Mr. Potter, may I ask why you felt the need to test out of Hogwarts?"

"I was sure that I could sit in my OWL's (and NEWT's too, Harry thought inwards) and decided that there was no way I was going to waste two years studying low-level stuff when the time could be spent in learning more... advanced things."

"So you think you are too great to be stuck by the Hogwarts' standards, do you Potter?" Snape remarked snidely.

"No, I just think that I should try my level best in what I can do."

"I will just have to agree with you, however unfortunate that is. After all, your potions are beyond average at the moment."

"Really? I didn't know that. Tell me more." Harry countered sarcastically.

"You insolent little-"

"Severus! Control yourself." Minerva interrupted. "Mr. Potter, you have to understand that this... stunt of yours has shown Hogwarts in a poor light. If a third year can attempt OWL examinations successfully, it not only highlights the student's prowess, but unfortunately undermines Hogwarts' standards too. People will start talking that the standards have fallen. Do you understand what I am talking about?"

Harry nodded. "I admit I did not consider all that before attempting." He ignored Snape's coughing which sounded remarkably like 'Gryffindor' and continued. "That said, I am not going to revert back to studying the usual courses. If it helps, I am willing to give a press statement about all this."

"As if the word of a boy holds any worth..." Severus began.

"The same boy whose results get the first page of the Prophet?" Harry countered.

"Fame gone to your head, Potter... just like your..." Snape tried again.

"IF YOU INSULT MY FATHER'S MEMORY AGAIN, I WILL BRING THE WRATH OF THE MOST ANCIENT AND NOBLE HOUSE OF POTTER UPON YOU SEVERUS SNAPE!" Harry thundered. His voice toned down a bit, he continued. "Since my first Potions class, you have belittled me again and again, but that's it. If you _ever, insult my father again, I will make sure that your name forever becomes an insult."_

"Is that a threat, Potter?" Snape asked slowly, his voice dangerously cold. The entire room was dead silent, shocked at the turn of events.

"That is a promise, Severus Snape, and _trust_ me, with all the resources that I have and with a little bit of _resourcefulness_ that I have got from my _dead_ father, the one you are always harping and bent on insulting; it will not take me even two days to make sure that your reputation is obliterated out of existence, _Snivellus_."

' _And then I will come after you._ ' He thought hard, making sure Snape got his Legilimency message. _'You monster!'_

Snape blanched, his face instantly pale and flushed. He stood up, rather flustered, quite opposite to his usual curt behavior. "I have important works to do; more than sitting here talking to insolent teenager anyway." He nodded towards the rest of the staff and darted away, his cloak billowing as usual.

 _That went well._

"Mr. Potter, that was indeed uncalled for." Minerva commented.

"Yes, but quite essential." Harry countered back.

Minerva sighed. "So tell me. What are your future intentions about your education in Hogwarts?"

Harry sat up straight. This was going to take some convincing. "I was wondering if I could continue with the private tutoring you and Professor Flitwick were giving me last year. I can manage the theory on my own, as I have already done quite a lot of it myself."

Silence.

He continued. "I am almost done with the theory section at the moment and as for practical, I just need to have a quick recap of what is necessary for NEWTS. I admit that my knowledge is generalized and not focused on NEWTS. Hence I believe it would do me a lot of good if my tutelage would be more of a testing of my present skills and filling up the holes. I assure you that any financial requirements would be borne by the house of Potter. I will be contacting my Account manager shortly if you agree. "

"That will be acceptable and I will thank you for your generosity. But that aside, what about the other subjects?"

"I would like to attend the fourth year's classes on magical creatures, potions, astronomy, Herbology, history of magic and DADA."

"DADA? I would have assumed you to skip the class altogether." Filius spoke out for the first time. Feeling the curious stares that the others were giving him, he stated, "WHAT? It's not like he needs them. He won the dueling championship for merlin's sake. I could not fight like he does if I wanted, and I'm jealous about it."

Harry almost flushed at the praise. "Moody is a good teacher and besides, I did not want to separate out from Daphne in the class. As for the others, I would want to take the advanced runes and Arithmancy, plus if some other electives were available."

McGonagall nodded. "You can have Alchemy, dueling, foreign languages and rune scribing."

"I should like Alchemy and rune scribing. I have already taken the dueling so that's that."

"Any more information that I should know about?"

Harry flushed. "I was also wondering that if I'm taking my NEWTS in transfiguration, charms, ancient runes, DADA and Arithmancy this year, then I will have a lot of free time for the next three years. I was hoping to get apprenticeship for mastery in a few subjects."

"Multiple masteries simultaneously? Harry for all your prodigious capabilities, don't you think it would be too much?"

Harry nodded. "I'm confident that I can manage it. If it's any better, if i can't manage it, you are always free to throw me out." he grinned.

Minerva sighed. That grin was just like James. No matter how much Harry was like his mother, the side of James would show itself from time to time.

"Which masteries would you like to work on?"

Harry grinned.

"All of the above five."

Silence.

* * *

Daphne moved through the empty halls of the third floor corridor. The deserted place was a good hideout for her. Since the previous year when Harry had introduced this room to her, she had visited this place more than often. Initially it was for the both of them to meet and converse in peace, get to know each other better. Harry had started to teach her DADA spells and techniques that he seemed to be a prodigy at. Daphne wasn't a fool. Sure she was the top student in their batch but Harry had a flair about magic, something that she never had. He would take some time to master a spell, but once he got it right, he would be performing them in such a spectacular fashion that it seemed he had been using those spells since years ago, and that too regularly. It used to drive Daphne mad.

Then, everything changed.

It had started a couple of months into the term, Harry's progress had improved dramatically. By Christmas, he was leagues above her. And then, the Dementor attack, Daphne had experienced firsthand the power that Harry truly had. It was astounding, mesmerizing, and so much alluring. Maybe it was his magical potency, but whatever it was, it had boosted his sexual appeal a lot.

Daphne wandered aimlessly through the empty hall and sat down on one of the benches. The last night had been exhausting and... enlightening in a way. She had begun to understand her fiancé a lot better. It had taken some amount of bluntness but it was worth it.

 **FLASHBACK**

Daphne had been sitting down on the common room couch, thinking about the events of the day. She knew that Harry was truly unhappy about the situation with Hermione, no matter how good he was at hiding his feelings. She knew that he was very caring of her, what with the way he had been at her side since her admittance into the hospital wing. It was very romantic and thrilled Daphne. But at the same time, she felt bad that Harry had not confided in her about his OWLS. Might he have wanted to give a surprise? She now felt bad for chewing him up in public.

Damn.

She needed to find Harry. Daphne got up from the couch and disillusioned herself. Although she hadn't mastered the technique by any means, it would do for now. She walked out of the common room, and whipped her wand out.

"Point me, Harry Potter."

She had found him dragging himself out of the seventh floor corridor. For a moment she wondered what he was doing there, but she controlled her curiosity and went up towards him. Harry must have somehow sensed her, for instantly, he whipped his wand out as his eyes lost their exhausted look, replacing it with a sudden alertness. She stopped where she was and stood silent, waiting for his next movement.

"That is a very good disillusionment charm, Daphne."

"How did you know it was me?"

"I guess the answer would be that my love for you pervades my senses, telling me that you are nearby."

Daphne rolled her eyes. Harry sighed. "Fine, your perfume gave it away." He very comfortably forgot to mention that he could sense Daphne's magical signature. Salazar had always taught him to always reveal the minimum possible of his skills. Although Harry hated hiding things from her, somehow his mind and heart understood that self-preservation and gut instinct mattered more than the Hufflepuff sense of absolute fairness.

"So what are you doing here?" Both of them spoke out at the same time. They flushed and stopped. Then tried again.

"So?"

"Hey stop that!"

It was almost hilarious; the way they were speaking the same thing. Harry wanted to say, but stopped himself and let Daphne answer.

"I was looking for you."

Harry's face shifted into a smirk. " Why Miss Greengrass, searching for a boy this late... I would have assumed that it was incredibly forward of you, had I not known better."

"Oh hush you!" Daphne flushed with embarrassment.

"What were you doing up there?" she asked.

"Venting."

"Oh."

There was silence for a while.

"Harry-" "Daphne - - - - - - " they blurted out together. Laughing at the hilarity of the situation, she began." I know you have your privacy and all, but perhaps... "

"I should talk about it with you." Harry finished for her.

Daphne's eyes glinted with surprise. "you would?"

Harry sighed. "might as well."

They wandered back into the third floor corridor. Seated at their favorite spot, he began.

"I know that I have always been quite jumpy and mysterious about my life before Hogwarts. But that's because I was ashamed of it. Ashamed that you would think me weak."

"So what changed?"

"I grew up. I learnt to leave the past behind. Your affection for me helped me to do it."

Daphne put her head on his left shoulder.

Harry continued.

"Dumbledore had dropped me on the doorstep of my aunt's house. Something about protective blood wards. I needed to be protected and Dumbledore had decided that me being safe trumped over me being happy. What he did not count was my relatives being abusive. Ever since i could walk and talk, they made me do chores. At first they were simple, menial jobs but as i grew up, the tasks grew more exhaustive. If you want an analogy, I was treated worse than you would treat your own house elf. "

That's why he is so considerate about house elves, Daphne figured.

I had to keep my performance in school below average, because Dudley my cousin, was hardly average and they did not want the freak to score better than their own child. They beat me and left me to starve in the cupboard for three days, occasionally passing a plate of water through the slot. "

Daphne was having problem stopping herself from running off and cursing those muggles to kingdom come. "cupboard"?

Harry smiled. "My Hogwarts' letter was addressed, _'to Harry Potter, the cupboard under the stairs.'_ "

"That's it, I'm killing Dumbledore." Daphne yelled indignantly and stood up. Harry caught her arm and pulled her back. She sat on his lap, enjoying his embrace.

After she had cooled down enough, Harry began. "When Hagrid came to our place, I was overwhelmed at the revelation. You cannot understand how I felt. That I was not a freak, that my parents were not drunkards, that there was an entire world out there where people like me lived, it was astounding. I was ready to go there right away. Hagrid had to bully my relatives and take me away. "

Daphne nodded. She pushed herself back into him reveling in the physical closeness.

"Hagrid somehow left me uninformed about how to get to the 9 and 3 quarters platform and i was completely at sea about how to get to Hogwarts. For a moment a fear grasped me about how all of that was supposedly a giant joke made on me and my hopes. However, luckily I had run into the Weasley family who were passing and for some reason, talking loudly about the 9 and 3 quarters. " Daphne looked at him, her face suspicious.

"Yes, I know what you are thinking. I have often wondered if that was a plant, one giant illusion created by Dumbledore to land me with a light sided family like the Weasleys. It actually makes a lot of sense since both Hagrid and the Weasleys are big followers of Dumbledore. But all of that is past. The Weasley family, for all its shortcomings, did take good care of me for the summer I spent at their place. It was my best summer since then. " Harry reminisced.

"Back to the main story, so the Weasleys help me board the train and Ron comes to my compartment, and we talk. Basically all that he told me was how he was the sixth child of his parents and had to live on second hand things. I did feel the irony of the situation that i never even had a single thing to call my own and here he was, complaining how he had to use the second hand stuff of his elder brothers. He then proceeded to eat the stuff I had bought voraciously, so much that for a moment I wondered if he too was starved like I was. "

Daphne sniggered as Harry continued. "Then I met Hermione and Neville. Hermione was this completely high-strung about how she had practiced all the spells and read ahead and everything. I was feeling quite bad about not having studied as much as her. Ron on the other hand, his face was turning redder and redder."

Harry sniggered at the memory. "Somehow between all of that and Malfoy's visit, Ron Weasley ingratiated himself to me and started calling himself my best friend. He dominated the entire part of our friendship-whom to be friends with, where to go, what to play. And being called freak for the better half of my life, I was so glad to have a friend that I willingly submitted myself to all kinds of torture."

Daphne laughed at Harry's statement. "A lot of us Slytherins had tried talking to you, but Weasley had forcefully drove us away. We used to wonder why you always stuck with him. Most of us hypothesized that you were under Dumbledore's thumb, given the way you always hung with Weasley, and everyone knows, Weasleys basically worship that man."

"Oh!" Harry interjected, "I didn't know that. I just thought that no one wanted to be friends with me or something. The second year did a lot to reinforce my beliefs, what with the way the entire school was after my blood." He chortled. "I guess somehow I had stuck to this belief that Ron was my one, only friend, no matter how lazy he was. No matter what happened, I always knew that my best mate would be there for me."

Harry paused for a while. "Then, Christmas came."

Daphne looked up at him.

"I had gotten an invisibility cloak which is an old Potter family heirloom. Apparently, my dad had lent it to Dumbledore for some personal study and all, and Dumbledore sent it back to me with an anonymous note. Ron's face... it was filled with jealousy. I told him that it was the only thing I had from my parents but all he did was harp on and on about how cool having a cloak was, how he would do anything for one such cloak. It was... strange. I guess that was the first time that I started feeling that somehow, I had chosen the wrong hand to shake."

"Wrong hand to shake?"

"In the train, Draco had given me his hand to shake, with the promise of steering me away from the 'improper crowd'. Ron had been my first acquaintance and I already had my initial displeasure of meeting Malfoy, so I rejected him on the face."

"Malfoy was like a rejected lover since day one." Daphne chortled.

"I guess he was!" Harry smiled. "Then when I faced the Mirror I told you about, I had dragged Ron out of bed to the Mirror. He told me that he saw himself as Quidditch Captain and Head Boy. There was no... Me in it." He paused for a while.

" The fact just... stuck with me. His jealousy over things that others have; his irritation and abhorrent behavior towards Hermione just because she was better; his non-stop blabbering about Quidditch all day and yet never taking the initiative to go down the field and train; it all kind of stuck with me. Somewhere that eleven-year old mind of mine understood and accepted the fact that Ron was a lazy git, who could just be a crybaby over things, and yet too lazy to work and accomplish everything. That was why I started to change things in our friendship. My first year altercation with Voldemort reinforced my beliefs."

"What did you do?"

"I started to study. I guess I was never a bad student, I never... applied myself. The fact that being below average was a good thing was something that was deeply ingrained in me since I was a kid at primary school. Before I went back home, I secretly ordered an expansion satchel in which I stored my books. After my chores were done at the Dursleys, I used to sit and read till late night. The books that I had bought, I studied them in detail. It felt great." Harry ended, a smile playing on his lips at the thought.

"And then the Chamber was opened."

Harry looked up at her. "Yes. Ginny Weasley was possessed by a shade of Voldemort, and she was the one commanding the basilisk to petrify people. After I killed the basilisk, I got a new room all to myself. The chamber of secrets. It even has its own lore of Parseltongue that I study from."

Daphne felt that there was somehow more to the Chamber than Harry was talking about. But she let it go for the moment. "I guess that was why you weren't that surprised when Weasley joined Malfoy."

Harry nodded. "It was indeed a very unpleasant revelation, but somehow not surprising. Somehow I had accepted it within my heart that once I reveal my true self, there would be problems between me and Ron. Weasley, he is just a phase of bad choices in my life."

"And Hermione?" Daphne urged subtly.

Harry sighed. This was more complicated. Ron was simple, his wants, his needs and his desires were simple. Hermione though...

"Hermione and I had much more in common than me and Ron. Both of us muggle-raised, similar yet different. Hermione grew up amongst loving parents, teachers who always praised her photographic memory, her adherence to rules, her obsession with learning. Me? I was abused by the very people who were supposed to care for me. Never in my life had I found anyone to trust, my cousin scared away anyone who could be a possible friend to me. My entire life there, I just learnt one thing... _It was good to go unnoticed. It was good to be invisible. It was good to be below average."_

Harry turned to Daphne. "That was why I never gave in my best in class. Just enough to pass. To be unnoticed was my idea."

Daphne turned back at him and kissed his neck softly. "I can't even pretend to understand what you must have gone through."

Harry smiled. This was one of the things he liked about Daphne. She was dead honest about her feelings. "After the troll incident at Halloween, me and Hermione became fast friends. I never studied because I had to be with Ron. Hermione over studied, almost enough to compensate for the both of us." Harry chuckled. "But still, she understood me in ways Ron could not even comprehend. Ron considered himself my best friend, but somehow, Hermione was the one I almost desperately clung to. She was the one to truly help me in my problems. And then, she changed in my third year."

Harry stood up. "I admit I was busy, what with all the new happenings all around, making more friends, meeting you, learning all I could, my heritage, and of course, the tournament. I admit I somehow cast her aside a bit, but honestly I did not notice, I was busy and was expanding my circles."

"And then she tried to dose you with a love potion."

"Yes. Somehow Hermione had convinced herself that I had turned to the dark arts and that you were somehow pulling me away from her. I don't know when but it is obvious that somewhere in all that, Hermione had begun to develop feelings for me. And then, she began to delve in the arts I believe. After Christmas, she was changed."

Harry closed his eyes. The sight of his old friend, wand raised, holding Weasley under a dark shackling curse with a deadly intent, was still vivid in his mind.

"Why didn't you talk to her then?"

"I...cannot say. There are some things about me that you do not know, and may not know for a long time... But trust me, it is for your own good." Harry felt like a hypocrite. He knew how much he hated when Salazar hid essential information away from him.

Daphne nodded. "I may not like it, but I understand."

"You are the best, Daph! What would I do without you!"

"Become a solitary brooding man, all alone in the wizarding world." Daphne countered with a sly wink.

"Sounds about right!" Harry grinned and kissed her.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

 **### Read and review. I know the story is going parallel to canon and it will mostly stay like that. Well, at least for some time.**


	72. ROTS 28: Unforgivables and Offers

The second floor of Borgin and Burkes was usually a dead silent zone. Until Borgin had hired Hermione for the bookkeeping job and allotted her the room, it used to be an extra closet room for storing dark and malicious artifacts. Ever since Hermione had started living in it, the room had been cleaned and cleared up. The battered table was laden with dusty tomes, the desk completely hidden among stacks of parchment and research work. Anyone with little amount of knowledge on the dark arts could say that the owner of the room was a highly prodigious scholar and researcher, what with the way the owner had perform detailed analysis of dark spells and importantly rituals and their effects. There were even some parchments which were filled with detailed illustrations of how a rather difficult ritual could be develop from scratch, and of course not to do forget some of the heavier tomes that lay littered on the bed.

But yes, the room was dead silent.

The air inside the room started to churn as a rather concentrated magical aura swept over the room, blowing the parchments all around. There was a blinding flash of light and a rather busy figure having shiny brown hair appeared out of nowhere into the room.

Hermione could not stop herself from falling down on her knees. The technique she had employed invoked principles of wild chaotic magic. It was quite taxing, but it could circumvent around most wards, especially the anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards. What she had done to escape was not mere Apparation. No, what she had done was open a dimensional gateway using chaos magic that could directly take her to her desired destination irrespective of whatever bunch of wards stood obstructing her path. The cons of the technique, the more the obstruction, the more energy she would have to spend, and considering that she had broken out of Hogwarts, it was surprising that she had not suffered magical exhaustion.

She couldn't believe that she had been basically tricked into admitting her guilt by none other than Harry Potter himself. That... That git had basically manipulated her into storming down to Weasley's room and interrogating him. He must have known that Dumbledore and Aurors would be there, and had ruthlessly played on Hermione's ignorance. It was simply outrageous that she, after over a year of research on the dark arts, had been potentially fooled by Harry over something she knew extremely well. It was the height of Gryffindor paranoia, she mused.

 _I will make him pay..._

But there was a problem. She had escaped from Hogwarts, which basically meant that she was now a fugitive. That said, she thought that there was no way she could return back to Hogwarts for her future studies.

 _No homework, no tests, no classes, no OWLS..._

Had this happened a year ago, she would have been scandalized and perhaps had died of a sudden heart attack or something, but now, she was more than a little amused. There was hardly anything that she would have been able to learn at Hogwarts anyway. She had quite a lavish amount of money in her bank, and thanks to the lack of proper cooperation between wizards and goblins, her monetary problem was solved. As for knowledge, she was in Knockturn alley, and there was hardly any book that she wouldn't get here. Most dark families bought their private collections from Knockturn alley anyway. The curse breaking that she had been learning the previous summer, as well as her prodigious prowess at convincing people, she decided that it won't be a problem for her to have a good lifestyle. It was unconventional by it suited her. Not that the Wizarding world was lining up to give better offers to a mudblood anyway.

Hermione strode out of the room. She had to meet Mr. Borgin and _convince_ him first.

* * *

"Morning class, we shall continue with the previous topic." Moody held out his wand and cast the Pyrologos spell. He started writing on the air and the letters appeared in the form of burning flames.

 **UNFORGIVABLES**

"As we previously discussed, the unforgivable curses are completely forbidden to cast, irrespective of your social or political position. Casting any of the unforgivable curses on anyone is a direct ticket to Azkaban. Even during the last Wizarding war, us Aurors were not allowed to cast any of them. "

He paused to allow the class to absorb everything he said, using the time to look over at the facial expressions of his students. Most of the faces were filled with astonishment and puzzled curiosity. He looked at Harry and was surprised to see the boy hold up a perfect poker face. Moody smirked. Given Potter's dueling prowess, there was no way that Potter could not have known about the Unforgivables.

"So can any of you name the three curses?"

"My father told me about one. The Imperius curse." Ron Weasley muttered out, his face holding an expression of surprise as if he had been surprised that he had actually answered a question. "

"Correct in one, Weasley. Your father would indeed know about that. Gave the ministry a lot of trouble in the days after the war." Ron looked a bit peaked but smiled and sat down.

Moody took out one of his jars and levitated out a rather large spider. Harry recognized it as one of those large spiders, acromantula they were called, the ones he had faced with Ron in his second year, although this one was quite small comparatively.

Moody pointed his wand at the spider, and intoned loudly.

 _"Imperio!"_

The spider suddenly went all lax. Then as if it was some puppet of some sort, it began dancing on the desk. Everyone laughed at the situation, except Harry and Daphne. They had more than enough experience to understand what it meant.

"Total control!" intoned Moody loudly, "it's fun isn't it? I wonder how many of you will continue your mirth when I cast it on you."

"You can't do that. It's illegal." squeaked Lavender.

Moody gave the girl a sharp stare. "Miss Brown, please, get out of the class."

Lavender squeaked in shock. "What?"

"I said, please get out. Unless you want to be the first one to experience the Imperio from my wand."

Lavender nodded primly and walked out.

"Now? Any over-puritanical people remaining here who would like to lecture me about the ethics of unforgivable curses? None? Good. Let's continue."

Harry felt Daphne get stiff and squeezed her arm softly, caressing her by drawing circles on her smooth skin. He looked at her, and smiled. She smiled in return.

"Now I shall begin to put each and every one of you under the curse. If you don't have any defense at all, you won't face any intrusions and will simply become a mindless puppet for me. If you have even the slightest form of mind defense, then you will face an intrusion into your mind which will... efficiently try to convince you to do whatever I order you to. This is funny for me and difficult for you. The key to winning the battle is to irritate me to death by resisting my commands. So who will be my first guinea pig? "

The entire class looked blankly at him

Finally, Seamus Finnegan stood up.

"Good to see some Gryffindor bravery, although bravery is perhaps the nicest synonym for stupidity." Several of the Slytherins laughed.

"Go Seamus!" Dean and Ron cheered him back. Seamus walked out to stand in front of Moody who quite inelegantly whipped his wand and intoned, "Imperio!"

Seamus's eyes dazed, similar to the way Daphne's had, Harry observed. This was going to be interesting.

"Jump like a frog." Moody ordered clearly. Instantly, Seamus dropped down and sat on his four limbs and started to jump all the way across the room. He even managed to make a decent croaking as he jumped. It was hilarious.

Moody looked at him with disdain. "This is a perfectly good example of what happens when you do not have any mental defenses. Who's next?" he asked, freeing Seamus from the effects of the curse.

The next thirty minutes were quite funny. Neville had walked up and asked Millicent Bulstrode and danced a waltz all across the room. Tracy and Theo both had a great time exercising and jumping over the benches. Blaise had some resistance but on further forcing, even he had started to meow like a kitten.

"Next, Harry Potter."

Harry walked calmly towards Moody, his voice devoid of all expression. He had developed an innate hatred for that particular curse after seeing how it had forced Daphne into attacking him from behind. His mind defense at full strength, he stood in front of Moody.

Moody smirked at him. "Imperio!"

A calm feeling began to shroud all over his mind as a sudden lax feeling started to fill his mind alerts. The feeling was so good, it had him so much elated and-

The entire feeling was suddenly torn down into shreds by Nidhogg, who for some reason was bloody annoyed.

 _"What was that, sorcerer? I felt something foreign trying to take over my sentience."_

 _What did you do Nidhogg?_

 _"Trying to be funny eh, Sorcerer? Of course I tore it to pieces."_

 _Does that mean that I'm immune to the curse?_

 _"Till I am in your mind, Yes."_

 _Cool._

Moody was getting frustrated. He had cast the curse, and a rather powerful one at that, on Potter. He could feel getting some amount of dominance over Potter's mind when suddenly his spell thread was torn to pieces. It was... inexplicable.

The boy's eyes had not even turned cloudy at all. It was as if the spell had been obliterated from existence. It was...

 _Unnatural._

He would have to figure it out later. Now though...

"Great job, Potter. Well done. Look at him, he completely resisted my curse."

 _More like shredded it to pieces..._ He told in his mind.

Turning towards Harry, he replied, rather loudly, "They will have difficulty controlling you. Well done."

Harry nodded and went back. There was no point being all smug about it. Resisting the Imperius was one thing, but to be completely immune... Harry was sure that ten seconds after the class would finish, Dumbledore would be updated with this new information about Harry. He had seen the surprise turn shock in Moody's eyes when Nidhogg had shredded the Imperius spell into pieces.

 _At least now I know that my mind is safe. If only I could do something similar for Daphne..._

" _Sorcerer! You needed only have asked."_

 _Seriously? There is something I can do?_

" _There is. Your mate can undertake a small ritual and you can share a part of me with her."_

 _Won't that have... I don't know... any kind of implications on her?_

" _No Sorcerer. It is just like that form of mine you created in front of Nicholas. A basic level manifestation of me, separate from my sentience; serving as a guard for your mate's mind."_

 _Hmm... I will talk to Daph about it._

"Now!" Moody had begun speaking again. "Who can tell me the next curse?"

"The- Cru- Cruciatus curse."

Moody looked up at the boy who had spoken up. "LongBottom, right?"

Neville gulped and nodded.

"Yes, the Cruciatus curse. Causes agonized pain in your nerves. You don't need knives or daggers if you know the Cruciatus. For obvious reasons, I shall not be demonstrating them before... innocent eyes."

"And now, the third one."

"The killing curse." Theo spoke up.

"Yes!" Moody levitated another spider, and put it on the table. Pointing his wand at it, he intoned.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A green jet of light shot out of his wand, and hit the spider. It slacked down, falling dead instantly.

The class was dead silent.

"Not nice. Not reversible. Simple, neat and efficient. The killing curse cannot be blocked-" Harry smirked inwardly at that- "and its only exception sits before you."

Every single head turned towards Harry, who kept up a blank expression on his face.

"Now, homework. I want you to study chapter six on hex deflection. I will be quizzing everyone on the subject, and there may be some joint practical quizzing too." He laughed out gruffly.

"Class over!"

* * *

As Harry had expected, Moody had immediately gone off to discuss with Albus about this oddity about Harry Potter. Not that Moody was suspecting anything, but he wouldn't be Moody if he was not paranoid, and he wanted to know about the oddity in detail. After a pensieve viewing of the situation; Dumbledore sat on his plush throne and crossed his fingers, supporting his head with his crossed palms.

"Albus? What do you think about this?"

"Alastor my friend, do you remember that I had once apprenticed under Nicholas Flamel?"

"Why yes, I do. You had also mentioned how he was into arcane arts, and you had been judged ... less capable to learn them." Moody spoke out.

Albus grimaced. Over a hundred years and still that rejection had been a sort of sore moment for him. Especially when young Harry Potter had been judged as worthy while Albus had been rejected plainly by Flamel, saying that his magic was simply not potent enough.

"Young Harry has been taken in as an apprentice for those arcane arts by Nicholas Flamel."

Moody stared at his long-term friend and observed his facial expressions.

"You fear him going dark, sooner or later."

Albus nodded in head like an old elephant chasing a fly off his face. "I know that Harry is quite resourceful and a good person at heart, but you know very well that powerful magic is a very powerful corruptive agent. I am afraid that young Harry would be... strayed off by the powerful magic he is learning."

"I completely agree with you Albus, and I do share your concerns. I will let you know if I discover any kind of questionable behavior from Potter." He turned to leave, but then stopped. Still facing the door, he spoke.

"Are you sure that it is your concern about Potter going dark the reason for that grimace on your face? After all, you yourself have treaded across many dangerous magicks, sometimes single, and sometimes with your... old friend. I guess what I want to ask is that why is it that you fear Potter to go dark, while you are so sure that _you_ are well grounded in the Light!"

With that astute statement, Moody walked out of the door, leaving a perturbed Headmaster behind.

* * *

"So you are now a fugitive?"

A nod.

"And the DMLE is after you?"

Another nod.

"And you want to live here, and work fulltime, and continue whatever you were doing?"

"Yes."

"Very well. You may stay. I will think about this, but for the moment, you may stay."

"Thank you Mr. Borgin."

"Go up to your room. You will begin work tomorrow. I will think about your job. You will be doing some new kind of jobs for me from now on."

"Sure."

Borgin nodded and Hermione left through the door, knowing that the Asphodel root, enchanted using cursed Unicorn blood that she had planted in Mr. Borgin's office, would soon begin its work.

Hermione smirked.

* * *

"So run that ritual thing by me once again?"

Harry sighed. "I want you to undertake a ritual by which I shall be able to provide you with a mind-golem. That Quetzalcoatl I had conjured to be exact. Not that large, but just enough to protect your mind against any kind of mental intrusions or compulsions. But you will not be able to tell anyone about your mind-golem, except that I have given it to you."

"Hmm... all right, so how do we do it?"

Harry looked surprised. "You agreed?"

"Why? Are you suggesting that you were hoping that I won't?"

"No, I mean of course not; I just thought maybe I would have to try convince you a lot more."

Daphne smirked. "Then perhaps I can pretend to be unconvinced, and you can pretend to try convince me further."

Harry's face lit into a sly smile. "Oh I have a better idea to spend time together." His hands snaking across his waist, he pulled her close. Their lips touched, their arms entangled, only to separate hours later.

* * *

Severus Snape was furious. No scratch that, he was beyond furious. His hand was craving to whip his wand out and cruciate that blasted scion of James Potter to his heart's content. The brat had not only challenged him in presence of the rest of the staff, he had openly threatened him to completely destroy his reputation. And the worst thing was, he could possibly even pull that off.

The memories of the Quidditch Cup were still vivid in his mind. Although he still had trouble believing that that ruthless monster who had butchered his companions and burnt them alive had been Potter, there was no refusing of the fact that it was Potter who had done the deed. And now, after that open public threat, Potter would be insufferable. His inner sense of self-preservation prevailed, he knew that the brat and Dumbledore were not seeing eye to eye at the moment. Perhaps Severus could use that angst to construe something that could add to his arsenal against Potter.

How he hated that brat. Severus even had the points numbered about the number of ways that Potter had been screwing his life. Had he been so magically potent, he would have cast a redacted hereditary curse on the Potter family. It would be sweet revenge, given how first the father, and then the son, had been the source of all of his woes.

His hand grasping that bottle of firewhiskey, dumping the hot liquid down his throat, Severus once again began listing in his mind how Potters had effectively destroyed his life. Woe onto them!

I need to do something...

But what can I use against Potter? Had the dark lord been here... Peter...

Snape whipped his wand and cast a Patronus, it forming a doe after the person he _desired_ most...

 _Lily_.

The silvery doe stood tall, its little head shaking in the air. Severus spoke clearly.

"Go to Pettigrew. Tell him- Report."

The doe nodded its head gravely and faded.

Severus sighed and sat down on his couch, there were dark days ahead.

* * *

"Mr. Potter!" rang the gruff voice of Alastor Moody. Harry was just about to enter for his sixth year Runes class when he heard Moody call out to him. He turned back at the oddball professor.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Congratulations on the results. I was most curious when I heard that some anonymous student had kicked the arse of one of the better leads of the Auror recruits. Imagine my surprise when you win the dueling tournament and now I come to know that the anonymous student was you."

"Miss Tonks was simply being casual with me, I believe, professor."

"So be it, but it is still a shame for an Auror to be beaten so soundly by a schoolboy, even if it is you. Now the reason I stopped you from your schedule is to talk to you about something. I went through your grades, and also listened to Auror Tonk's reporting of the skills you demonstrated. I also procured memories from spectators of the dueling tournament, and finally I have seen your OWL results."

"Your conclusion?"

"There is nothing DADA would teach you in school. So why stick in 4th year? The least I would have expected was for you to join the sixth year classes."

Harry stared at the Professor for a second. "I... already know NEWT-level DADA like the back of my hand."

"Wouldn't expect any less. While this kind of prodigal prowess is rare, almost legendary, my question stands!"

"I... kind of wanted to stay back in the class for my girlfriend. Besides, there was nothing new for me to learn anyway, at least till NEWT-level. A bit of theory sure, but none in practical."

Moody whipped out his wand and set up a fairly powerful privacy ward. He added a bit of silencing charms and notice-me-not charms to the ward too.

Talk about being Paranoid.

"I may have a smart suggestion for you. Tell me Mr. Potter, what do you know of apprenticeship?"

"I am... already apprenticed to someone." Harry replied warily.

Moody's eyes glinted, Harry observed.

 _He already knew..._

"I know that you are planning for your DADA NEWTS for this coming year. Now I, have been a Master Auror for a decade and after that, I have been training rookies to become decent Auror cadets for the ministry. That said, I also have another job that is... not-so-public."

Harry nodded, gesturing him to continue.

"I am a scout for the Department of Mysteries."

 _The department of Mysteries. The name keeps coming up again and again. I wonder why!_

"And?" Harry managed to prevent most of his curiosity from showing. Moody smirked.

 _Excellent mental control. I like you, boy._

"I can tell you about the rest, but there is a catch. What I am about to tell would require a certain level of security. If you join, the situation is different. If you don't, I will have to oblivaite the next couple of minutes from your mind."

"I am not so sure I would like being obliviated, Professor." Harry replied, his tone a bit cold than usual.

"Yes, but it is Government procedure. There is a third way though. You can consent to a memory lock, and in that day, I don't have to obliviate you."

"Sounds better."

 _So you do know about memory locks. I wonder what else you know, boy._

"So be it." Moody whipped his hand in a half-circle anticlockwise and whispered.

" _memoria Obfirmo_ _primum_ _"_

"That was the first part of the memory lock. After our conversation is over, I will put the final part of the lock and the entire memory will be locked in your mind. If you agree to my proposal, I shall give you the key to the lock. Else, you don't get the key."

"Fair enough."

Moody straightened up, his electric eye zooming in and out, focusing on Potter's facial expressions. He began. "The Department of Mysteries is an autonomous organization that is a part of the Ministry. Although it is headed by Croaker and normally people know that they research on magic; there is another secret wing within them that no one knows about. There are the Intelligence Unit of the Unspeakables, and comprise of very talented fighters who work for them. They are trained in any and every kind of combat magic available to the Department, and serve the Department as they are commanded. Usually it is to finish off some dark wizard or kill some wannabe dark lords or something. They are the last and the most powerful stand against attacks."

"Where were they during the first war then?" Harry could not stop from asking.

"Who told you they weren't? You think that the Death eater forces were repelled by the small Auror chunks that our Ministry possesses? Normally the Department enters the scene when Aurors fall back and retreat, and they were about to do so, when you turned everything upside down."

"Halloween 1981."

"Halloween 1981." Moody confirmed.

Moody paused to take a breath. "Now I know that for all your capabilities, you are still a bit small agewise," he put his palm up to stop Harry's defiant rebuttal, "not that it makes any difference to the Department or anything. I know that you have special skills, skills not unlike the way you tore my Imperius to pieces. I scout for the Department and I get them new cadets who after further inspection, become trainees and eventually join the Department."

"And you want to scout me?" It was not an accusation. It was a fact.

"Yes. I want you to give me your best shot, show me what shit is there inside you that you hide from the pathetic wizards all around. Impress me, and I shall forward your file to them."

"I will... think about it. But I need to know the norms and the oaths that I would have to take. I am not about to give in my independence to anyone."

"Didn't expect anything else too." Alastor waved his wand, and a small booklet appeared. "Read it, and if you have any doubts or questions, don't hesitate to ask. I shall await your answer. You have... two days."

Harry nodded.

"And now, the final portion. _memoria integra Obfirmo_ _..."_

Harry felt the memory vanish off from his mindscape. It was still there, he could sense it, but it was away from his mindscape.

"Take this." He handed a piece of parchment to Harry, "Wouldn't want you to have a bad impression on first day of class."

"Thanks, professor." Harry nodded and left.

* * *

 **###AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi guys! Pshew! Finally done with another chapter! And OMG! 500+ reviews? I know it's pretty normal for the more amazing fanfics out there, but I am a newbie author and so, this value is quite flattering. Also, just 6 steps away from a 1000 alerts. I am honestly flattered. Thank you to all the readers who spend their wonderful time reading and reviewing my work. Now when I started this fanfic, I had an idea what to write but not a complete grasp on the big picture. Now though, I know I have enough idea till the end of 5** **th** **year, and trust me, the 5** **th** **year is going to be my most ambitious project, more than writing the dueling tournament has been! As for the present 4** **th** **year, there are twists and turns here and there, but I am not giving you a hint!**

 **### I know my Moody is quite a showman, considering that he was indeed attacked. There was a hint of a spoiler over there in case you couldn't tell. Anyways read and review.**


	73. ROTS 29: Blood runes

"I have decided to take up Moody on his offer!"

Salazar drifted himself up towards the library shelves, and pulled out a rather dusty tome, levitating it down to the table in front of Harry. His eyes still peering through the tomes, he replied back. "I have heard of the other wing of the Department. They are warriors, although... I would prefer to describe them as... _mercenaries_. They are trained in battle magic, at least in battle magic that they are provided with, more modern. Do not have the delusion that you will get more tomes of the battle-magic of the war mages; but you will surely be conditioned to fight; more than you possible are, at this moment. If you want to give it a try, you have my blessings."

Harry inclined his head. "I will contact Moody tomorrow morning then."

"Now, we must return to your active training sessions. I know I have been busy since the last few months and left you on your own, and I shall offer no excuse in return. I had some urgent business to take care of, and now I'm done; so we shall begin our sessions without further delay. I assume you did go through the books I told you to."

"I did, although I'm not finished yet."

Salazar nodded. "That will suffice. I know that your elemental self is built upon by rituals, and I know that your powers are developed by rituals, but I believe you have been told about the possible detrimental effects of rituals?"

"Yes, Nicholas told me."

"True. But that brings us to a dilemma. If you remember, I did tell you to figure out ritual combinations in groups of seven, and now you know that you cannot perform more than seven without losing your stability. Quite a dilemma, isn't it, descendant?"

Harry inclined his head. "You have a solution."

"You have been spending too much time with me, to see through my verbose speech."

Harry grinned.

Salazar gave a long suffering sigh. "Yes, there is a way. We shall be employing blood magicks to understand that path. Tell me, what is the basic principle behind blood magicks?"

"The law of equivalence. _To manifest something from nothing, we need to sacrifice something into nothing. And the manifestation must be equal in energy and intent to the sacrifice._ I assume that 'nothing' refers to the Chaos?"

"It does, and more. So we shall begin our foray into blood magicks. You see Blood, is a most powerful medium for channeling magical power. If a wizard would simply channel his magic through his blood, his spells would be many times more powerful than what he gets using his wand. However, your wand is different. It contains your affinities, your elemental core as well as your blood. It is the best possible medium for you to channel your energies efficiently. I know that you have grown proficient in wandless spellcasting, but _never_ , lose faith in your wand."

Harry nodded. He had no such intention either way.

"I shall teach you how to effectively use principles of blood magick into converting a ritual into a single rune. Such runes are called Blood runes. The reason I told you to figure out ritual combinations is because of these runes. We shall convert one ritual into one rune, and when we have seven of them, we can devise a ritual to us those seven runes effectively."

"So I would do one ritual and yet do seven?"

"I did say I have a solution."

"Bloody awesome!"

"Language!" Salazar mocked with exasperation. He sighed, "There is another thing. I want this to remain between you and me. To be precise-"

"You want me not to tell Nicholas." Harry stated primly.

 _How in the seven hells did he deduce that?_

"Yes. How did you understand that?"

"It was so sudden that Nicholas took away the reality distortion subject from you, and decided to teach it himself. I remember how enthusiastic you were about reality distortion. It simply, did not end up nicely, what with the way how easily you gave up the topic."

"You are bloody precocious for your own good!" Salazar grumbled good-naturedly. "Yes, Master Flamel decided to take over reality distortion because he does not prefer me teaching it. He has always thought that I was a bit over-enthusiastic about my thoughts on the subject. Nicholas is, a stern man, living by the rules. He has a firm sense of right and wrong, and I believe that his fights with the dark lord Orion, has made him fearful about you. He believes in getting you firmly grounded within the rules, because he fears that you too will become like Orion someday. I know he is very subtle about it, but make no mistake, you are there _only_ to learn."

"So you also knew Orion?" Harry questioned generally.

"I was... I was in his team."

"WHAT?"

"I followed Orion. But I was young, and to be honest, Orion wasn't evil. He just... had a different sense of right and wrong. After Orion was killed, and Emrys distorted reality to throw Orion out, I along with many others, submitted to the will of the victors. A few years later, after going through a whole bunch of oaths, Nicholas took me as his apprentice."

Harry could not believe what he was hearing. His ancestor, the great Salazar Slytherin, was a follower of the man who was the harbinger of Chaos. Had he been his former Gryffindorish self, he would have shown a reaction. But now, he was too... Slytherin to do that.

"So is that the reason that Nicholas did not trust you to teach me reality distortion?"

"Among others, Yes."

"And this blood runes, you think Nicholas will try to actively prevent me from learning it?"

"Well as Illusion Master Emeritus, he could directly ban me from teaching it to you, but somehow I don't think he would resort to that. Knowing him, he would probably infest your mind with hatred about blood runes. For all his talents, Nicholas has always been quite close-minded about certain things."

"So you don't mind that I may... you know, turn down just like Orion was?"

Salazar closed his eyes. "Orion used to say one line... One man's reality, is another man's illusion. He always believed that the bill comes due. We sorcerers have always bent time, magic and space according to our whim while the Chaos has freely granted us the power to do that. But with every new distortion we have done, we have also reinforced the attention of its destructive face upon us. Orion was simply, collecting the overdue bill."

"I don't understand. Orion was destroying the world. How can you support him?"

Salazar levitated down to his heir. Looking into Harry's eyes, he questioned. "Tell me Harry, you have yourself seen the powers of reality distortion. What do you think about that power? Isn't it selfish that the Illusion Masters keep the powers to themselves? Should such magicks be shared freely among everyone else for equality's sake?"

"ARE YOU CRAZY? IT WOULD DESTROY THE WORLD!" Harry yelled out, his face filled with horror at Salazar's suggestion.

"Even though it is selfish?"

"It is necessary for keeping balance."

Salazar grinned. "Exactly."

"Huh?"

"Before the advent of Orion, the forbidden arte was something that was freely shared. People were so much hell bent on achieving what they wanted, they completely ignored the consequences. After the war with Orion, everyone understood how very deadly the forbidden arte was. The arts were thus limited to the Illusion Masters guild, only to be used for protection purposes. In a way, Orion saved the world, although in a twisted sort of way."

Harry just looked at his mentor blankly, his mind processing what his mentor was telling.

"I... understand."

"No, you only heard it and have just comprehended what I said. You have not yet analyzed it. Take your time, and even if you do not agree with my point, I shall continue to teach you anyway. I will see you tomorrow."

Harry simply stared. There was much to think upon.

* * *

"Hermione, I have thought much about your change in social status. Normally I would not keep a fugitive under my roof, but you have shown potential, and good employees are hard to come by. So you need to do something for your appearance. Can't have people knowing that you live here. That would be bad for my business. Apply some glamour, or perhaps you can get something out of one of your tomes." He remarked pointedly. "Also, I believe you will have your second mission by two days, and once again, the amount is quite fetching."

"My cut?"

"Thirty percent, as usual."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Borgin."

"Well, can't stop myself from doing the right thing at times, can I?" He walked out of her room.

Hermione smirked. The enchantment was working. Hermione had decided the enchantment so that Mr. Borgin would be more susceptible and vulnerable to her 'suggestions' and 'requests.' It was one of her newly developed skills, and if what the tome described was correct, she could use this skill in ways more than one.

Myriad were the powers of magic.

* * *

"Professor Moody?"

Alastor looked up from his worktable to find Harry Potter standing at the door. "Come in, lad. And close the door."

Harry walked in. Deciding to be blunt, he stated, "I have decided to give is a try."

Moody looked up at him for a moment. "Very well." He handed out a piece of parchment to Harry. "This is my official contract with you. It states that I shall be teaching you advanced magic and testing your abilities, and if I find you satisfactory, I shall be forwarding your file to the Department. That said, because we are dealing in dangerous magicks, I hold no responsibility for any kind of injury that you might suffer from, during the course of our training. If that sounds good enough for you, sign in there at the bottom and we shall be done."

Harry nodded subtly and went on to read the details on the parchment. He never noticed the grin on Moody's face. The parchment was exactly what Moody had entailed, albeit in more legalese format.

"It says the same thing."

"Tell me lad, how are you possibly in Gryffindor?"

Harry smirked. "Because I am a Potter?"

"Your behavior is highly Slytherin, even more so that most Slytherins. I would assume most Gryffindors would simply sign up quickly and be done with."

Harry's eyes glinted. "Well, that would be because I am Slytherin. After all, my full name is Harrison James Potter, Lord of Potter and Lord of Slytherin."

Moody smirked. "So it was you. I was curious when a new Lord of Slytherin was announced in the Wizengamot."

"So what does this training entail?"

"Well firstly, you and I are going to have a 'not-so-friendly' duel. Don't hold back, fire on me anything and everything and even shit that you can make up. I want to see your true potential."

 _You would run away in terror if I show you my true potential..._

"Of course Professor. Shall we begin?" Moody nodded and the duo went into the Defense classroom. Moody waved his wand and the room was cleared off the desks and benches.

"This is a magically reinforced classroom. It will contain the powerful spells and prevent destruction. Wands at the ready, BEGIN!"

Harry idly twirled his wand in his palm, waiting for his professor to make the first move. Moody didn't disappoint, as he quickly sent rapid-fire Effligo curses at him. Harry whipped his wand up and conjured a metal shield, and propelled it forward, meeting the Effligo near the center of the distance between them.

"Nice!" Moody thought. He sent another set of raid fire curses, flame throwers, bludgeoners, cutting and slicing curses and yet Harry was able to dodge and weave through most of them, parrying some of them at times and finally he manifested a standard Aegis, absorbing the rest of the attack.

"oh Nice! Let's level up then! _Hastam tenebrarum!"_ A spear of pure darkness shot out of Moody's wand. Harry stood his ground and at the last moment, cast a _Gravios_ charm on himself, uplifting himself into the air.

"Excellent! Now handle this! _Everbero! Moitas Espadas! Fulminata_!" Moody roared.

This is going to be difficult, but not something Harry could not handle.

" _Aucta vi Clypeum!"_

The golden shield arose and radiated outward, parrying away the oncoming attack. Harry took the moment to conjure a score of javelins and fired them towards Moody. Between the javelins and his own backfired spells, Moody decided to save his life and jumped off towards his right on the floor.

"We are done!" He intoned. "there is hardly anything I can teach you. If anything, I am sure you know spells I don't. Where did you learn them, boy?"

Harry gave no answer.

Moody laughed. "No matter. I will be forwarding your file to the Department. I assume Matthews will have a tough time grilling you. Funny for me and torture for him. Come with me lad, we have some paperwork to do."

* * *

"I thought about what you said. And I'm not sure whether I agree or disagree with you. But I'm biased because I am born in a time when powerful magic is repressed into hidden cults, not one in which powerful magick was shared freely. So I do not, or rather, cannot truly understand the vision that attracted you. That said, I am not averse to learning whatever you teach me, with an open mind. I am not Orion, nor do I intend to become like him. I am Harry Potter and I will not allow any kind of belief systems or whatever, from achieving my fullest potential."

"Good. That is exactly why I am so proud of you, my heir. Also, accept my congratulations on your outstanding performances in the tournament as well as in your OWLS. That said, we can now begin studying on Blood runes."

Harry took out his journal and quill, poised to make notes.

"A blood rune is different from any other kind of runic alphabet. Simply said, there are no predefined blood runes. I will show you how to perform a ritual and yet not involve yourself in it. The effects of the ritual will obviously rise in the form of an energy mist, as you well know. You will need to effectively condense that mist and fuse it into a single drop of your blood, that would need to be placed in an appropriate position. Once that is achieved, the mixture shall realign itself into a particular shape for a few seconds, before consuming itself. You need to remember the shape in your mind. Your Occlumency should help you with that. Once all the seven rituals are done with, we will need to analyze the runic set and devise a particular order for them to be carved on your skin using a sacrificial dagger."

"Then?"

"Then we will need to perform one amalgamation ritual that should imbibe the runes into your body, thus granting you the effects of seven rituals right in one."

"Sounds easy,"

"oh you just wait and watch. You will eat your words, apprentice."

Harry gulped.

* * *

The next week had been Hell for Harry. Salazar had been right, Harry literally had to eat his words. Firstly, performing a ritual involved loss of a significant amount of blood and magical power. Even more difficult was to try and constrict the ritual mist and fuse it with his blood. The process was incredibly taxing and because this ritual was made for a sorcerer, Harry could not use his elemental energies for his aid. On an average, it took him around twenty minutes to get the fusion done. That meant twenty long minutes of continuously using his magical power to constrain an ever increasing amount of magical mist, which was no doubt brimming with energy.

Finally, after seven days through Hell, Harry had seven blood runes ready for amalgamation. Salazar had told him to take a day off so that he could have his energy for the amalgamation ritual. Harry wasn't complaining either way. It was just like Moody said. "Funny for me and torture for you."

Speaking of Moody, the veteran old-Auror cum Unspeakable Scout had been unavailable to him for the entire week. In fact, he even missed two of his classes, and Snape had dropped in as a substitute. It was a blessing that Snape normally avoided Harry after their altercation in the staff room; else between the taxing rituals and everything else, Harry would have perhaps literally blown Snape off.

The time for the amalgamation had come. The setting was good, for after all, it was full moon. Rituals were nearly always empowered by lunar activity. He stood naked, in the center of the ritual circle he had etched out on the floor using basilisk ivory.

"This amalgamation, should increase your morphing drastically. At full efficiency, you should be able to mimic the powers of a metamorphmagus at best. However, whatever we get could be of some use to you. We do not want anyone to know that you are an operative. Perhaps a face for your operative job, a face for your personal hunts and then your original face. It will help you keep a good alibi for most scenarios."

Harry took out his dagger and carved the seven runes all over his body. Two of them went just above his eyelids, one at his navel, two on his knees and two on his palm tops. After the carving was done, blood dripping out of the carving all over his body, and the pain searing through him, Harry chanted the incantation.

 _ **Gwaed ar gyfer Cryfder...**_

 _ **Cryfder ar gyfer sgiliau...**_

 _ **sgiliau ar gyfer amddiffyn...**_

 _ **amddiffyn ar gyfer Gwaed..**_

 _ **As I will it, So mote it be!**_

* * *

 **###Read and review!**

 **###Minor alert : For those of my reviewers, who leave a guest review, please leave a name instead of the usual 'guest'. Makes it easier to differentiate from the 'guest' reviews. Thanks.**


	74. ROTS 30: Department of Mysteries

The Department of Mysteries was basically one of the most puzzling areas in the Ministry of Magic. Located at the ninth floor, the entire department was completely off the grid. There was this long corridor, with silvery poles along either side. At the end of the corridor, there was a single oak door with a silvery spherical structure almost exfoliating out of it. For an unauthorized individual, the door opened into the waiting room for the Department of Sports and Games; However, for the authorized ones, the door opened into a whole new world.

Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody limped all along the Ministry atrium, followed by a rather charming young man. The young lad, an Evan Jameson, somewhere in his twenties or something, had curly brown hair and sharp green eyes. His chiseled face gave off an aura of sharp intellect, and his lean build gave off the impression of a person who really took care to look good. Dressed in immaculate black and green robes, the young man silently followed the veteran Auror into the heart of the Ministry.

Climbing the lift, Alastor turned towards his companion. "Level Nine." He pressed upon a knob which had a rather large '9' edged over it, and the lift zoomed downwards. After a couple of seconds, the contraption's doors blazed open and the two men walked out.

"Welcome to the Department of Mysteries." The familiar cool voice spoke out.

They traversed the entire length of the corridor, standing right in front of the oak door. Alastor walked up front and pressed his palm on the silver sphere. There was a tinge of purple glow from within and then he moved his palm away.

"Come on, in." He turned the knob and entered inside, followed by his companion.

"This is the Intelligence Department for the DOM. Since I am only authorized to enter here, I could enter here. Now, follow me." They walked through the dark corridor that ended soon; they stood facing a rather large door.

"This is the recruitment unit. Insides, you shall have to reveal your original self and you will be told all about what your job profile is about. Now, follow me."

Both of them stood in front of a rather large U-shaped desk. There were two seats available, and the duo sat over them. Evan could see the people sitting in the dark opposite him. Why the Department maintained such detailed parlor tactics was beyond him.

In the low lighting, he could see the faces of the two men seated in front of him. One was rather tall and blonde, with rather thin and long fingers. He had a thin chiseled face, not unlike his own, and black eyes. The other was square-jawed and quite bony. He had black hair and was apparently the shorter one of the duo.

"Good morning Alastor. I see you have brought us, our new recruit."

Alastor nodded and continued gruffly. "This is Harry James Potter."

"doesn't look like him, though." The shorter man commented, in a rather sassy tone that sounded a bit familiar.

The features on Evan's face started to distort and morph, and in a matter of seconds, the brown curls were replaced by lush jet black hair which shades of red in them. The eyes remained the same but the face looked a little less narrow.

"A metamorphmagus; Interesting. That was not present in his file, Moody."

"He didn't know." Harry answered on Moody's behalf.

 _Nor did I, actually._ He snorted inwards.

"So Mr. Potter, this is the operations unit of the Unspeakables. We are responsible for doing things that no one will do. Our operatives are mercenaries in the truest sense of the term. We work for the security of our nation, we finish deals that would make even the toughest of the Aurors and Hit Wizards to retreat away. We train our operatives in magic much more deadly and dangerous than what even hit-wizards learn. You will be taught how to fight brutally and without mercy, but at the same time, our contract deems that you will never take arms against the state of Wizarding Britain while you are an operative. If you feel like retiring from our service, you are free to do so, but we may put some of your memories under memory locks; security reasons and all."

Harry nodded.

"The magic that we deal with are dangerous and deadly. And powerful magick has a way of corrupting people-"

"Not corrupting," Harry intervened, "powerful magick brings out the true personality in people."

The taller man nodded his head silently. "Theological issues aside, if your behavior goes beyond borderline dangerous, we shall fire you, and also obliviate the training out of your mind if required.

If you agree to that, please sign ...here." He forwarded a sheet to Harry who read it for personal surety.

"It is agreeable." He signed at the bottom of the parchment.

"Now that it is over, we shall begin. Matthews here," he pointed at the man beside him, "will have a basic fight with you. Your power levels, your fighting skills and your weaknesses will be analyzed and a further training program shall be ascertained on basis of that."

Harry inclined his head subtly.

 _Power levels? They are in for a surprise then..._

"You ready?"

"When shall I begin?"

The man called Matthews stood up. "Come with me!"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office. He was having quite a difficult week so far. Somehow Nicholas had come to know that he had suspected Harry of being guilty of the attack on Mr. Malfoy and also about the conversation he had with the young boy. Needless to say, the rather embarrassing chastisement that Nicholas had given him was going to stick in his mind for long.

Albus thought hard. The prophecy had said that _Harry had been born to vanquish the Dark_ , that obviously meant that he would be Light, didn't it? It had to. Plus, Nicholas Flamel, the actual Light Lord over the centuries had taken in Harry as his apprentice, despite the latter being an elemental. Surely Nicholas had found something about Harry that made him so sure, enough to introduce him into the hallowed halls which even Albus was refused access.

Yes, he had poorly judged Harry Potter.

The boy had already suffered all his life at the Dursleys, and then again during his years at Hogwarts. The boy happened to have the worst and best luck. He would continuously be put into dire circumstances and still, the boy would miraculously rise above them. It made Albus proud. And then since last year, Harry Potter had changed drastically.

The boy had one-upped him in his own game of manipulation. Yes, Albus Dumbledore had been defeated, and that too soundly, at his own game. Albus could admit that he felt jealous of the boy. After all, his own former mentor had taken him as apprentice for the hallowed portals of illusory arts. In his jealousy and close-mindedness, he had treated the boy unfairly. Not to forget the many, many moments when he had allowed Severus to outright bully the boy.

It was simply not correct.

The office door knocked loud and clear, bringing him out of his musings.

"Come in, Severus." The detection ward was indeed one of his better ideas. It gave him a certain level of dominance on the person entering. A rather put-off looking Severus Snape entered into the office. Looking at the surly face of his colleague and trusted ally, he asked. "Is something troubling you Severus?"

Severus looked at the old Headmaster. This was the man whom he had successfully fooled in 1981. This was the man that his lord often spoke of as an equal. This was the man who had been his benefactor, his protector, his trump card, his savior and his safeguard, one whose authority enabled him to keep on with his trademarked bullying. The one man who had unknowingly played into his hands, and now protected Severus from all kinds of social disasters, again and again.

And now he would save him again.

"Potter has threatened me!"

Albus lifted his head up. Severus was one of his... ill-conceived plans. His plan to use Severus as a spy in case Voldemort rose again had lots of repercussions. The man was extremely unprofessional, and had no sense of mannerisms. He was a bully, simple and to-the-point. The man had become exactly what he had hated most. James Potter and his friends had bullied all his school-life, and now Severus was filing their shoes by bullying other students. Were Potion-masters not so rare to get, and were he not rather good at clandestine jobs, he would have fired Severus much earlier.

"And what did you do to make Mr. Potter resort to such behavior?"

"How can you even ask me that Albus? That Potter brat is the most arrogant, petulant child I have ever put my eyes on. That son of a bitch -"

"SEVERUS! ENOUGH!" thundered the ancient wizard. "FOR TOO LONG HAVE I PERMITTED YOUR RIDICULOUS BEHAVIOR, BUT THIS... IS UNACCEPTABLE!"

Severus blanched. This was not what he expected.

"Albus, what are you-"

"you have been enjoying years of my patience, but this is one time too many! You are being put on probation for now on! One single complaint... And you _will_ see yourself back on the road, and believe me, a death eater does not find employment that easily. So mind your behavior, before I MIND YOU!"

Severus Snape was literally shaking with fear. This was going beyond what he had ever anticipated. He had hopes of trying to play on Albus' insecurities and try to harm Potter, but this... this was anything but that.

"I will take my leave..." he mumbled and ran out of the office.

Albus sank down into his plush seat. That was a bit in excess, he decided, but perhaps, he had been correct in being cruel to be kind. Severus Snape had become an overgrown child, especially one with an over-inflated ego. It was time to ground him anyway.

His introspection taking over him, he returned to his musings.

* * *

It had been a rather exciting thirty minutes for Harry. The man, Matthews was really giving him a good time. In the first twenty seconds of the duel, Harry had known that the kid gloves were off. The short statured man, a bit shorter than Harry himself, was a dual wand user. He could fire off spells simultaneously with two wands, thus Harry was technically facing two opponents instead of one; albeit two opponents who were wonderfully able to coordinate their attacks. Harry had to parry, deflect, weave and shield through the spell chains while simultaneously try to attack back. The man, Matthews, Harry corrected himself, did not even limit himself to blasting and cutting curses; rather he used the Cruciatus as if throwing off stunners. The man could have easily given Voldemort a run for his money, if that scum ever fought an honest fight, Harry mused.

But that did not mean that Harry was being defeated either. He used his left hand to cast some of his wandless shields for hex deflection, and used his wand to cast powerful attack spells. Swords, javelins, transfigured animals and boulders were thrown in and out as if popcorn. Harry was having the time of his life dueling like never before, but now it was time to end the fight. He gathered an energy burst and was about to fire it when a bludgeoning curse hit his arm, throwing him off. Harry tried to make a comeback but Matthews had used that moment to rapid fire a couple of blasting curses to prevent that from happening. A rapidly fired stunner ended the duel.

Harry opened his eyes after ten minutes, only to see a pair of sharp steel gray eyes looking down on him. A strong hand held his arm and Harry used it to pull himself up. He was about to thank the man when the man interrupted his attempt at conversation.

"Who trained you, recruit?" the man had a modulated voice.

"I am... self-trained. At least in combat."

"I have seen you dueling in the tournament. I knew you would be a good choice for an operative. That was one of the reasons I informed Moody to bring you in."

"I'm sorry but Professor Moody took me here after a week of my agreement." Harry responded.

Matthews laughed heartily. "It takes people years of practice for us to even notice them. You on the other hand, are special. But at the same time, you are doomed for failure. I have seen you fighting. There is a sense of arrogance in you. Arrogance born out of your conquests. Arrogance that lost you the match that you could have won easily. Arrogance, that will someday, lead you to your death."

Harry was incensed when the man called him arrogant but his innate cunning prevented him from reacting out. As he heard the man state his point, the words began to make much more sense. He had been treading into more and more deadly and powerful magicks since the previous year. It was perhaps that, which had made him arrogant of his power.

He stood downcast, accepting his own shortcomings.

"Look up recruit. This duel that we just had, I am sure you could have easily defeated me. I am much more skilled than you, yes; but you have power leagues more than mine. In fact, the way you used your power and yet your aura never flared, it almost seems like your power levels are almost indefinite."

Harry stood silent and faced him.

 _You have no idea how close you are to the truth._

Matthews continued. "it is obvious that you have the proper mindset we require. Your spell casting proved that. From your next day onwards, you shall be authorized to use our library. You are to learn new spells, try them, and of course ask me for help if you need so. You will be training in this chamber until you can effectively hold against twenty dummies for more than thirty minutes. After that... well, we will see. Now come to the recruitment unit."

Harry followed him out of the chamber.

"Well Mr. Potter, you have surely impressed Matthews here. I have never seen him so worked up after the survey examination. You are henceforth, officially an Unspeakable. Because you are already emancipated, you won't need to fill the emancipation form. I am told that you already have a customized multi-compartment trunk, so unless you want a government-supplied trunk-" he saw Harry shake his head in denial-"moving on, this is your key to your Gringotts vault. Your earnings shall be directly sent to your vault after every month-" he handed Harry a small cloth bag— "the bag contains your key, your unspeakable badge and of course, your unspeakable gear and robe. You may enhance the robe in any way you wish, no issues there, and then here is your ID- of course this is named to Evan Jameson, and not Harry Potter as Alastor told you wished it to be. I think I have everything covered, and well, I am Jonathan and welcome, Evan Jameson, to the Intelligence Department of the DOM."

"Now let's clear out a few things. Your life as an operative is under concealment oath, meaning that you cannot voluntarily reveal our existence to society. Since you are a student at Hogwarts, you shall have to figure out a way to arrive here. I am told that you can apparate, but just want to confirm. Are you trained in Apparation and portkey creation Mr. Potter?"

Harry kept a perfect poker-face, not answering the question.

Jonathan sighed. "Now that you are an Unspeakable, you are free of the regulations of the Ministry and can speak lucidly, without fear of appraisal."

Harry nodded.

 _Good._

"Very well." He handed Harry a small bracelet. "This is particularly programmed for a long-term portkey. You can use it to travel directly to within the Department without being stopped by any wards." Harry took the bracelet gingerly and wore it on his left hand.

"If that is all, Alastor here will show you out. Please return back on Sunday for your first official job-hours. Good day!"

Harry nodded and followed Alastor back out of the Department.

"So lad, excited about all that?"

Harry just nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You are awfully silent for a fourteen-year-old, you know that? Now come on, we need to get back to Hogwarts, and you still did not tell me how you managed to apparate out of Hogwarts' grounds." The older man almost whined.

"Someday I might tell you, professor."

"Call me Alastor when we are in private. It will be fun to have practice duels with you. Now off you go, back to your secret tunnel and get back to Hogwarts undetected. I will apparate from here." Moody winked and apparated away.

Harry sighed, repeating his former overused statement..." When in Rome..." he apparated.

* * *

 **### Well, that was it. Next chapter, the Triwizard tournament comes into play and the official canon-ish stiff begins to happen. I will need to time-skip for a week or something perhaps but nothing is set in stone yet. I am a pretty bad planner and every time I plan out a chapter, the stuff that comes out after I type it is usually a rather improvised version of the original idea. So basically, wait for the next chapter. I promise there will be at least another by Sunday. And well, I don't know if I shall be posting another new chapter before the new year arrives, so a very happy new year in advance to all of you. Please, read and review.**


	75. ROTS 31: The Triwizard tournament

**OCTOBER 29** **TH** **, 1994.**

Harry and Daphne were just coming out of their joint Herbology class. Harry, for all senses and purposes, was a somewhat decent Herbology student, and unlike Neville, who was certifiably the resident Herbology expert in the group, he had no aspirations regarding the subject. The coarse and resilient training that he had undergone since the previous year had left a lingering addiction towards battle-magicks in him. Harry could see that; Daphne could see that. Hell, everyone in Hogwarts could see that. Harry wasn't even coming for the Quidditch practices anymore. He would simply take his broom once a while and soar into the heavens, perform death-defying tactics for a while and then return back to his schedule. Although he took his classes in Runes and Arithmancy with the sixth years, his advanced preparation, coupled with the photographic memory he had developed, thanks to Occlumency and the rituals, only made things better. Babbling and Vector would strive on a regular basis to keep his attention in class by giving him practical projects while the rest of the class studied first-hand. The sixth-years would be learning how to solve multi-dimensional arithmantic equations while Harry would work on applying those equations into real-time wards. His work on the protection-based runic array for his trunk had heavily impressed Babbling and she was practically babbling about how he could work with her on more complicated stuff when he would be apprenticing with her.

Daphne had regularly started going for lessons to Madam Pomfrey on the subject of Healing. While Poppy Pomfrey was no mind healer, she was quite versed in the basics of the subject. She might not have the branched magical aura that Daphne had, but she was still able to guide her into simple cases. Daphne now spent at least ten hours a week with Poppy on the subject, and helping the other injured students out; something that impressed Poppy a lot.

Tracy, Blaise, Theo, Neville and Susan had taken a leaf out of Harry and Daphne's book and decided to come up with self-study schedules. Blaise and Tracy were quite accomplished when it came to Transfiguration while Tracy was a natural at Charms and Potions. Neville was of course, a Herbology genius, something which had begun expanding to Charms and Potions after he had received his own wand, while Susan was gifted in the DADA and Charms. Together, the group prepared their own schedules and set up a practice unit on the third-floor, a spot remarkably closer to Harry and Daphne's secret spots; something that greatly amused Harry and irritated Daphne, who looked it as a threat to their privacy.

Harry had begun attending his sessions at the DOM, his training hours now fixed to three days a week, something he was quite able to manage with the help of Salazar's time turner. Since they would normally call him off at late evening or night, his schedule did not really suffer by the increase in workload. But Harry decided that in case he felt that he was being overworked, he would cut out the runes and Arithmancy classes altogether.

His progress at the DOM had increased in leaps and bounds. He had never been tested so ruthlessly in his favorite subject and Harry had enjoyed every moment of it. It was as if the sounds of the spells clashing sent a tinge of exhilaration in his body. He had narrated the feeling to Salazar who had merely smirked at him, his eyes openly displaying the message _'I know something you don't.'_ Obviously Salazar knew it, the description that Harry was giving him was quite a popular feeling among only one kind of sorcerer.

 _A war-mage._

Someone like Godric Gryffindor. It was ironic because Harry had learnt the foundations of battle magic from Godric himself after all.

Harry had decided that he would be using his Evan Jameson identity for his operative life. He was even working on another decent face, in case he had to go out on another secret adventure like the Quidditch world cup. Knowing how his luck worked, he would perhaps need one very soon. He had even been to a wand-crafter at Knockturn Alley to make a custom-made, non-recognized wand for him, for such events. His metamorph abilities were hidden and they were hidden for a reason.

He often wondered how lucky he was. Daphne was the most supportive and understanding person he had ever met. Even if she had _'issues'_ regarding him, she always cleared them out, open and clear every time. It helped a lot to prevent overdue fights from happening. As for now, Daphne had not known about his Operative job, but he was planning to give her some amount of information. After all, the employment oath stopped him from voluntarily talking about the I.D, but he could obviously subtly agree or point out a few clues for her.

* * *

The betrothed couple had just entered the great hall when a huge banner manifested itself out of nowhere.

 **TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT**

 **The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 4 o'clock on Friday the 29th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early —**

 **Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front**

 **of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.**

There was a splatter of noise among the students as suddenly huge streams of students started to come out of their classes. It was obvious that the banners had been displayed in all classes. Harry and Daphne decided that there was no point waiting here for a quick meal and so joined the others as they strode towards the front gates.

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers —"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

" _There_!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest. Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time. "It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely. "Don't be stupid . . . it's a flying house!" said another.

And it was. As the gigantic structure drew closer, now almost near the windows of the Astronomy Tower, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

"Those are Abraxan horses!" A senior looking Ravenclaw intelligently pointed out. Harry looked towards the enormous carriage as a set of silvery stairs drew out from the bottom, and outstepped a woman, the largest woman Harry had ever seen in his life. She was taller than Hagrid, and by at least a few feet.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her. Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. Harry wondered if Fleur was amongst them.

"The horses!" Madam Maxime began. Dumbledore bet her to it. "Our Care of Magical Creatures Professor Mr. Hagrid will take excellent care of them."

The woman gave Dumbledore a dry stare. "Then please inform this- Mr. Hagrid that the horses only drink single-malt whiskey."

Dumbledore nodded. Madam Maxime turned imperiously towards the rest of the students and said, "Follow me!"

Harry tried to follow through amongst the throngs of students entering into the castle. But Fleur was not to be seen. Finally, he resorted to closing his eyes and searched for Fleur's aura. His aura had just begun to radiate and-

"Harry! You don't need to close your eyes if I am present, you know." The familiar voice sounded. Harry opened his eyes and saw a smirking Fleur Delacour standing in front of him.

"Fleur!" he called out happily. Fleur strode up and hugged him, inciting a couple of catcalls and whistles from the surrounding students and a not-so-subtle frown from Daphne. Susan and Tracy looked concerned while Blaise, Theo and Neville looked flabbergasted at the new development.

Harry stepped back from Fleur and held her hand. Pointing to Daphne, he remarked, "I suppose you remember my beautiful girlfriend, Miss Daphne Greengrass?"

"Oui. I do." The fake smile plastered on her face, Fleur nodded towards Daphne and subtly nodded in disdain.

"Miss Delacour?" Madam Maxime's voice pervaded the grounds.

"Coming, Headmistress. I will see you soon." Fleur left his hand and strode up to follow the giant woman.

* * *

"Daph?" Harry began, his hand squeezing hers. "Everything is all right. Correct?"

Daphne just gave a soft smile back. "It is difficult, knowing that she is interested in you. She is a Veela and-"

"Daph! You know that you are more important to me than everything else. Right?"

Daphne nodded with a smile.

"Fleur knows about the contract. Despite that, she told that she would try to be friends with you, and then see where it goes. Only if you agree, she could become a part of my family. As for me, yes, I do like Fleur, no doubt about that, but do not forget that there is only one place in my heart and that belongs to you."

Daphne blushed.

"If it matters to you too much, I will simply tell Fleur that she and I cannot be together. Your happiness matters to me more than anything."

"I will... try my best to give her a chance to ingratiate herself to me. If we do not work out, then-"

"Fair enough!"

There was a consistent whispering amongst the Hogwarts students as one of them had spotted some kind of disturbance inside the great Lake. From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water — except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks; and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor... What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool... and then Harry saw the rigging...

"It's a mast!" someone shouted out.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank. The students disembarked and the man who stood before the others was a rather rugged-looking man, with long black and silver hair. He had an almost haunted look to his face.

"Dumbledore!" he called out heartily, in a rather unctuous voice, as he walked up the slope.

"How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. The man, Karkaroff, asked one of his students- who Harry realized was Victor Krum, to walk into the castle, away from the cold air outside.

 _Perks of being a celebrity, perhaps?_

Harry could hear Ronald Weasley shrieking and whispering like a girl, shouting madly about making Krum give him an autograph, letting him sleep in his dorm for a change, and what not. Harry steered clear of the conversation and focused on the happenings.

"Now, that our guests have arrived, students please return to your House tables." Dumbledore voiced his thoughts with a sound-amplifying charm.

* * *

The throngs of students entered into the great Hall. Harry went and sat on the Gryffindor table as Daphne went over to the Slytherin table. The Durmstrang students followed Karkaroff who led them towards the Slytherin Table while the Beauxbatons moved over the Gryffindor table. Karkaroff and Madam Maxime went over to the staff table and sat on their respective chairs. Fleur wiggled in between Harry and Katie Bell to sit beside him, something that drew a frown on Daphne's face.

"Daph? What is happening?" Tracy asked her, concerned.

"Nothing. Everything is all right!" Daphne answered stiffly.

"You sure? That girl, she is a Veela right?"

Daphne raised her eyebrows. Tracy waved her hand around the hall in general. Most of the boys were staring at Fleur Delacour, a dazed look in some of their eyes. Daphne nodded, but Tracy could see that she was tensed.

* * *

"Do you need the Bouillabaisse, Harry?" Fleur asked from beside him.

"Nope. I'm done with it." Harry let her take the dish.

"You know, I thought that your friends might call me some kind of scarlet woman or something. After all, I am sitting with you and your betrothed is sitting away..." Fleur let out.

"Daphne understands. You still want what you stated earlier?" Harry asked.

"I do. Veela are sensitive to magic. My magic has somehow, chosen you. I would be at your side or die trying." Fleur consented.

"Fleur, I-" Harry began.

"I know you do _not_ love me Harry." Fleur tried her best to avoid the bitter feeling in her chest, "And I know that you love Daphne unconditionally. But there is also some amount of affection for me. No?"

Harry sighed. "Yes."  
"Then let us leave it to that, and hope that someday I can manage to convince Daphne and we can be together." Harry wanted to say something but Fleur stopped him midway. "End of discussion. I want to try the Bouillabaisse now!"

Harry grinned, the ghost of a tensed smile on his face.

* * *

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I

hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

He allowed the applause to go down, and then continued. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to

start. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemious Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" — there was a smattering of polite applause — "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Harry in personal, had a slight frown on his face. For some reason, his gut instinct told him to be wary of Crouch.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. And now-"

There was a sudden ripple in the air and in a flash of fireworks, there stood a wooden box that was studded with jewels on the staff table.

"In order to prevent any kind of partiality in selection of the Champions, we have decided that the Champions will be selected by an unbiased selector-" his wand whipped towards the wooden casket-"the Goblet of Fire." The casket broke up from the middle to reveal a large, golden chalice. It was strangely normal to look at, except that the top of the chalice held bright, bluish flames which danced on the brim of the cup.

"I should remind you all that only students of age seventeen or higher are eligible for the tournament-" his words being surpassed by groans and boo-hoo's from the crowd-"for safety reasons. I am going to put an age line around the artifact which will prevent you all from trying to illegitimately trying to enter."

There was a huge groan of displeasure from the Weasley twins. Ron, Seamus and Dean looked essentially disappointed.

"You aren't in this. So, I can win!" Fleur taunted with mirth, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

"I do not have any intention to enter the tournament, Fleur. I already have too many things to juggle. Wouldn't want to include the tournament to the list too."

"Ooooh! My, my, so young and yet so busy!" Fleur cutely bit her lower lip.

Harry just turned his face towards the staff table.

* * *

"You have time till 4pm, on Halloween to enter your name into the Goblet. The Goblet shall be placed here in the Great Hall till then. Please state your name, and your school in a parchment and drop it into the Chalice. If you are of age, the chalice will accept your entry. If not..." Dumbledore's moustache quivered, "the results will be interesting, for sure."

Harry smirked.

 _So Dumbledore thinks that his age line is unsurpassable? I wonder what he would say if he found that my cloak can surpass his age-line? On that note, I could very well participate, just to show him up..._

Harry pondered over the thought...

 _Nah!_

* * *

While the Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang students were making strides to return to their carriages, Harry used the opportunity to disillusion himself and escaped to the Chamber. Reaching the library, he found his mentor engrossed in some old tomes. It was a different sight, since normally Salazar would be mostly away. It felt good to have him back.

"So you have returned! I would have thought you would have forgotten the nasty old man down here and spent time with your mate and the Veela girl."

"Everyone is going to be busy with the Triwizard now. It's either Krum and his fan-following, or hitting on the Beauxbatons girls, or the Tournament in general up there. I thought I could use the time learning."

"A wise decision. Always remember, _wise wizards discuss ideas, mediocre wizards discuss events, and the sheep discuss people._ "

Harry nodded. Salazar was a pot of little pieces of wisdom now and then.

"How did that blood ritual work out?" he asked generally.

"My Evan Jameson look is perfect. My animagus form is more easy to morph into. But I am facing difficulty doing anything else. A metamorphmagus is supposed to be more than what I can do."

"You would be an idiot if you think that blood rituals can make you a complete metamorph. I am just surprised that you have a perfect alternate form."

"Except the eyes. My eyes never change color." Harry complained.

"Your Eveningshade magic is associated with your eye color. You will not be able to change that." Salazar explained.

"That explains it." Harry commented. "I am trying for another form, but it is much more difficult."

"Even if you never get another form, you should be happy with what you got."

Harry nodded, although he could not stop but feel a bit disappointed.

"Why do you want it so bad? It is not the form that is the issue. What is it?" Salazar asked primly.

Harry huffed in annoyance. "Still seeing through me, are you?" he complained.

"I only see what is visible. And besides, you are not yet a Master Occlumens yet."

"I know." Harry's tone filled with disappointment.

"What is wrong, Harry? Why do you want to prove yourself so much?"

"Because I don't want to be 'Just-Harry!'." Harry let out, as if it was literally paining him to reveal his thoughts.

Salazar raised an eyebrow. _'Just-Harry?_ '

"When Hagrid had come to take me away from the Dursleys, he had told me that I was a wizard. I fought tooth and nail over it. I could never believe that I was special, that I was a wizard. I was 'Just-Harry!' Even then at Hogwarts, everyone saw me as the 'Boy-who-lived'; and those who were my friends, saw me as a simple unremarkable guy. Even after all this, after winning the Dueling tournament, I am stuck with the moniker of being the 'boy-who-lived'. No matter how much I try, I am going to be the 'boy-who-lived-because-his-parents-died-for-him'.

Harry let out a guttural cry of disappointment.

"I...see." Salazar let out, finally. "Do you want to participate in the tournament?"

"No. I don't want it to be second year all over again."

"Harry, you have grown into a prodigious sorcerer. Your parents, wherever they are, must be immensely proud of you. You have to let the past go. Every time you talk about the battle-magic you learn at the DOM, I sense the vengeance burning through you. The way you talk, the hatred in your mind against Voldemort, I feel a bit... perturbed."

Harry just stared at his mentor in silence.

"Harry, revenge is like the Ouroboros, never-ending and self-devouring. Do not let your vengeance control you. Being an elemental, it is the last thing you want. You do not want to be Orion."

Harry was stumped. His mentor was comparing him with Orion. "I am not... I am not... like **Orion."**

"No, you are not. But in many ways, you are."

"You are _WRONG_!" Harry yelled back at him, stomping out of the Chamber. Salazar sighed in resignation. The words of the Prophecy still ringing in his mind...

 _ **This is the knowledge I have for you, about your everlasting damnation...**_

* * *

 **###AUTHORS' NOTE: Ah! Another chapter. I am stuck with a bout of viral fever so that gave me time to sit at home and create another chapter. Hope you like it. Read and review.**


	76. ROTS 32: Choosing of the Champions

**Office Of The Minister,  
The Ministry Of Magic. **

"I suppose things have gone in complete coordination, Amelia?"

"Yes."

The Director of the DMLE sat with the Minister in his office, discussing the Triwizard Tournament. After all, it was a vital point for the international cooperation between Britain and its allies.

"I suppose Harry Potter is participating?" Cornelius began, but Amelia interrupted him, "No Cornelius, Dumbledore had been quite clear about drawing an age-line, making it impossible for students less than sixteen years of age to enter."

"Oh!" Cornelius' expression fell. "I would have thought that making Harry Potter participate could be a bit more... exciting. After all his performance at the Dueling championship was quite spectacular."

"He is just fourteen Minister." Amelia shot him down briskly. "This tournament is for seniors, and whatever Harry Potter's skills on the dueling ground may be, I think it would be unfair for him to be participating against Senior students."

"Of Course, of course, silly me!" Cornelius backpedaled. "So what of the Goblet of Fire? Was it safely transported to Hogwarts?"

"Yes. I let Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman transport it safely. I even allocated a group of Aurors, although the Aurors were not required later."

"Yes, Well, good luck Amelia, and of course, let me know about the proceedings of the tournament."

"I will. Minister."

* * *

"And now, it is time for the Goblet to choose the Champions for the Triwizard Tournament!"

The great Hall of Hogwarts are brimming with anticipation and excited whispers. Some excited about their own possibility of selection, others busy gossiping about the potential champions of the respective schools. Ron in particular, could be seen rooting loudly for Angelina for Hogwarts and of course, Krum for Durmstrang. He would have rooted for the Veela girl from Beauxbatons, but she was way-too-friendly with Potter for his tastes. Draco Malfoy was still absent from the Slytherin table; he had still not returned back to school after his father had taken him away for treatment.

Fleur sat next to Harry on the Gryffindor table, as did the rest of the Beauxbatons group. Harry had been reintroduced to Caroline, and to two other girls who seemed to be remarkably similar to the Weasley twins. Harry had made a point to introduce the duo to the twins, inwardly hoping for some serious mash-up pranking, and he was not disappointed. The lunch during Halloween bore witness to their group-effort, and it was one of the finest ones Harry had ever seen. Needless to say, he was quite proud of his effort in introducing them.

"Harry, who do you think will be chosen?"

"Who else? You." Harry answered genially.

"You are awfully okay for one so competitive." Fleur countered.

"I told you, I already have enough on my plate."

"So you say."

"Would I lie to you?"

"Better not."

Harry maturely stuck his tongue out. Fleur laughed heartily. Her voice was melodious.

"The Champion for Durmstrang, is..." Dumbledore raised his hand to catch a piece of parchment that had been hurled out of the burning blue flames of the Goblet, which had momentarily turned red.

"Victor Krum!"

"Oh come on, that was completely obvious." Ron's voice could be heard. He never had the epiphany that he was acting worse than any of the females who had a crush on the celebrity. Ignoring the awkward looks that his friends were giving him, Ron rooted and cheered for Krum.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour!"

Caroline, the other girls and Harry cheered loudly. Fleur just sat, shocked by the turn of developments.

"Fleur!" Harry called, "go up and join the rest." Fleur smiled at him blankly and went forwards to join Krum in the antechamber.

"And finally, the Hogwarts' Champion. The Champion for Hogwarts is..." Dumbledore snatched the oncoming parchment from the air.

"Cedric Diggory."

Cedric Diggory, the pretty-boy of Hufflepuff, stood up gracefully. His friends and the rest of the Hufflepuff house cheering madly for him. Hufflepuff was normally treated like the House of the commoners, and hence, they hardly got any recognition. To see one of them becoming the Champion of Hogwarts, they were nigh exhilarated.

Cedric strode up front and joined the rest of the Champions in the antechamber. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —

" _Harry Potter._ "

* * *

 _This isn't happening! This isn't happening! I did not enter my name..._

Harry closed his eyes and opened them blankly. The silence all across the great Hall was deafening. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

 _It's second year all over again..._

Harry sat stunned, his legs too tired to pick him up. He tried to think about what just happened. He had not wanted to participate in this tournament. Damn, he had not even tried to enter, when he was sure he could enter it.

 _They will see me as guilty once again..._

"HARRY POTTER!" Dumbledore's voice boomed through the Hall.

Harry's eyes darted across the Hall and met Daphne's. Her eyes were full of shock, and... _concern?_ He looked up towards the Hufflepuff table, even Susan was looking at him with what seemed like disdain.

 _I just stole the light from their Champion. They are bound to be angry._

Neville was looking confused. Blaise, Theo and Tracy wore shocked expressions. Caroline was strangely indifferent. He looked up at the Gryffindor table. Ron, Seamus and the rest were looking at him with pointed malice and something like... hatred.

 _I will be cast out again._

 _It's the Boy-who-lived all over again!_

"HARRY?" Dumbledore called out once again. "Please join the rest in the antechamber."

Harry stood up, his face devoid of all expressions. He walked through the throngs of the students who stared at him. He reached the end of the corridor and entered the antechamber. Fleur, Cedric and Krum were standing there, perhaps engaged in small-talk.

"Harry?" Fleur asked, her expression curious. "Do they want us back in the great Hall?"

Harry did not know what to say. His mind was completely dumbed down. His mind was still reeling over the reminisced feelings he had as an outcast during second year.

 _They will make me a nobody once again..._

"Harry?" Fleur asked again; concern vivid in her voice.

"Extraordinary!" came the rather modulated voice of Ludo Bagman from the entrance of the antechamber. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce — incredible though it may seem — the _fourth_ Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, very funny joke, Mister Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned. "That is not possible Mr. Bagman! Harry did not put his name in the goblet. Besides, he is too young!" Harry's eyes flashed with sudden anger at Fleur's statement. Fleur immediately recognized her fault and backpedaled. "What I mean is, this tournament is for people who are of age. Harry, is not." She added with a finality in her voice.

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madam Maxime! They are saying that Harry also has to compete." Fleur began furiously. Harry couldn't help but feel a bit glad at her indignation on his behalf. Said woman drew herself to her fullest height and began, "What is this, Dumbly-Dorr! Why does Hogwarts get two champions?"

"I did not enter my name in the Goblet." Harry countered furiously.

"Of course he is lying!" Karkaroff remarked angrily. "what is this Dumbledore? An extra bite of the apple?"

"Please do not blame Dumbledore for the boy's attempt at being the news headlines. This isn't the first time that Pot-"

"Professor Snape!" Harry intervened suddenly, surprising others by his rather cold tone. "Please, choose your next words _very._.. carefully. I don't want you to look back at these moment, years later, to remind yourself that _this_ was the moment when everything... went _horribly wrong_ for you!"

"Why you-" Snape tried.

"Severus!" Dumbledore snapped, shutting him off. Walking towards Harry, he held his shoulders and looked at him in the eye.

"Did you enter your name, Harry?"

Harry defiantly looked back, and whispered. "No!"

"Did you tell anyone else to enter your name?"

"I do not need any help to enter my name, Headmaster. If I wanted, I could have very easily entered my name into the Goblet. Neither you, nor your age-line, could have done anything to stop me!"

"Such dastardly behavior! You arrogant child, how dare you mock-" Barty Crouch began.

"Mr. Crouch, please keep your thoughts to yourself. After all, you yourself would know all about dastardly behavior better than me! What with your elf and the Cup and-" Harry taunted coldly.

"ENOUGH!" thundered Crouch. "Albus! Please go on with the rules."

Albus Dumbledore looked at Harry with a curious expression. He let out a sigh and began. "Since Harry's name has come out, he will have to compete. The contract is iron-clad. Either compete or lose your magic."

Harry rolled his eyes.

 _Obviously! It is Halloween! The 'let's-fuck-with-Harry-Potter's-life' day! I shouldn't even be surprised._

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out — it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament —"

"— in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff, interrupting him midway. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud _clunk._

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Who would be interested in this _ordinary_ boy?" Karkaroff sneered.

"Oh I don't know. Some of your old crowd, perhaps? After all, this ordinary boy did handle your Master's ass to him, didn't he?"

"Alastor enough!" Dumbledore began, but was stopped midway by Madam Maxime. "but Hogwarts' can't have two Champions?"

"Hogwarts has only one Champion. And that is Cedric Diggory." Harry stated loudly, ignoring the sharp look of surprise that Cedric gave him. "I did not put my name in this tournament, but if I have to compete, I shall. However, Cedric stays as the only Hogwarts Champion. I shall be on my own."

"Oh stop pretending to be on your high horse, boy!" Barty began furiously. "One thousand Galleons and eternal glory. I can see why the likes of you would want to enter your name-"

"The likes of me, Mr. Crouch? You mean, the son of two people who fought against Voldemort. Unlike your son, as you well know." Barty's face flushed with anger.

"People would die for the glory of being the winner." Karkaroff began.

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter _is_ going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

"What?" came the general whisper.

"Someone must have entered the boy's name into the goblet." Moody began. "And pray tell, your evidence for that imagination of yours?"

"Imagining things am I?" Moody began. "The goblet of Fire is a powerful magical artifact. It would take an extraordinarily powerful wizard to hoodwink the goblet. It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundo Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament... I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category."

"You seem to have given this a lot of thought, Moody!" Karkaroff pointed out snidely.

"I am a dark-wizard catcher, Karkaroff. It's my job to think like them. You should know." Moody countered, shutting Karkaroff off.

"All right, it has been quite a group-discussion." Dumbledore began. Harry rolled his eyes. Only Albus Dumbledore would call that a 'group-discussion'. Dumbledore continued. "Ludo, if you would..."

Ludo Bagman steered clear of the crowd and came up in the front. "right, so you have the Wand-Weighing Ceremony in three days. The first task is designed to test your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important."

He paused.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. "The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Ludo turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that was all."

Dumbledore nodded and the authority figures left the chamber one by one. Madam Maxime was about to leave when Fleur petulantly spoke up. "But it is still unfair. Now that Harry is in the tournament, I lost my chance of winning!" She did not see the puzzled stares she was getting.

"I mean," Fleur continued her diatribe. "If only Cedric Diggory was there, I had an equal chance of winning, but now Harry is also included, and there is no way I could win over-" she realized the blank stares she was getting, "-and I will shut up now."

Harry rolled his eyes. Cedric looked a bit puzzled while Krum looked surly and indifferent as usual. One by one, the participants left the antechamber.

* * *

 **### so the champions are chosen! Should I keep the original Task events as they are? Review.**


	77. ROTS 33: Reactions

**TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT! 4 CHAMPIONS! BLUNDER OR ARROGANCE?**

 **Halloween 1994, yesterday, the Triwizard Champions were unanimously selected by the ancient artifact - the Goblet of Fire. Legendary Seeker for Bulgaria, Victor Krum was chosen as Champion for Durmstrang Institute. Fleur Delacour, daughter of French DMLE head Sebastian Delacour and first-runner-up at the Dueling tournament this year, was chosen Champion for Beauxbatons. Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff 7** **th** **year, son of Amos Diggory, Head of the Department of Magical Creatures, was chosen as the Hogwarts' Champion.**

 **Interestingly, a fourth champion was also chosen. Although this reporter has not been able to figure out the entire details yet, but I shall aspire to get the entire story out for the dear readers. The general idea is that Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived had somehow bypassed the age-line set by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore; although how Mr. Potter carried out this ingenuity remains to be known. Bartemious Crouch, the head of the Department of Magical Cooperation, had to say-**

" **Potter is one of the most abhorrent fourteen-year-olds that I have ever had the misfortune to meet. I have always felt that the people of Wizarding Britain have been wrong in endorsing the fame of the Boy-who-lived. He is an unremarkable, petulant child with dreams of grandeur. Nothing else."**

 **While Mr. Potter has not yet granted us with an interview, we hope to meet him soon during the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony. This reporter also interviewed Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions-Master of Hogwarts, and he had shared a similar approach.**

" **Potter has always thought of himself as above the rules, and I'm sad to think that the Headmaster takes pity on his being an orphan to provide him with undue advantages. Since first year, Potter has been an arrogant child, always thinking himself above the rules."**

 **This reporter wonders what is true and what is not. The tournament has just begun and we will be providing you with exquisite details about the entire coverage of the tournament. Stay tuned!**

Harry shifted the pages of the Prophet away, fuming. That bastard Snape would just not listen. Harry had given him multiple chances, but that man would just not stop.

 _Very well._

He took out a piece of empty parchment, and started to write.

Harry smirked. There was work to do.

* * *

"Dumbledore!" The angry voice of Sirius Black roared into the Headmaster's office. Sirius Black, with Remus Lupin in tow had barged into the office.

"Ah! Sirius! Please have a seat!" Dumbledore began, but Sirius cut him off. "Where is Harry? I want to meet him."

Albus nodded and intoned loudly. "I need an elf!" Immediately a lousy-looking elf popped in, waiting for the Headmaster's orders. He wrote down something in a parchment and handed it over to the elf. "Please take it to Mr. Harry Potter, of Gryffindor House." The elf nodded and popped away.

Harry had finished writing the letter and was standing in the owlery, petting his dear owl. He adored his owl, she was the only one who never let him down. She never judged him, she never betrayed him, she never misunderstood him, and had always been by his side. All she had demanded were such moments of care. Harry petted his owl affectionately.

"You up to some flying, Hedwig?"

Hedwig rose one of her claws up, as if asking him to tie the letter there. Harry rolled his eyes at the bird's antics. He carefully bound the letter to her claw and she left off.

 _Now I just need to wait for the reply._

 _That reminds me..._

"Dobby?"

"yes, master Harry Potter sir?" Dobby popped in immediately.

"You up to some spying, old friend?"

Dobby's eyes watered at Harry's calling him his friend. He was just about to begin praising him when Harry continued, "I will need you to spy on one particular person. Make sure you are completely unseen."

Dobby nodded hastily.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I need you to spy over Bartemious Crouch. He is-"

"He is Winky's old master, Harry Potter sir!"

"Winky?"

"Mr. Crouchy's elf, Harry Potter sir. She was crying about being a free elf, sir."

 _Interesting..._

"Tell me Dobby! Now that you are free of the Malfoy's, can you tell me about the hidden closets of Mr. Malfoy?"

"No, Harry Potter sir. Dobby is magically bound from revealing his old master's secrets." he countered, disappointed.

 _Well, worth a try._

"So, about this Winky. Is she also looking for a family?"

"No one takes an elf after it is given clothes, Harry Potter sir."

"I am willing to take her in, if she wants to, that is." Harry replied, with a smile.

 _Might as well..._

"Master Harry Potter sir is the greatest sorcerer in the world!" Dobby clung to his legs, much to Harry's chagrin.

There was a pop next to him. Harry turned around to see a Hogwarts elf standing next to him.

"Mr. Harry Potter sir, the Headmaster has sent this for you." She handed him a note.

Harry opened it.

 **Sirius and Remus are in my office. Please come as soon as possible.**

 **-Albus Dumbledore.**

Harry looked up at the elf. "Can you take me with you to the Headmaster's office?"

The elf nodded. Sending Dobby off to his new assignment, Harry popped away with the elf.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy stood in front of his courtyard, his hands reading a letter from his secret accomplice, Harry Potter. The young Lord Slytherin was quite an enigma. The letter in his hands, Lucius felt it was the first step in a long line of vengeance. The letter read...

 **Mr. Malfoy,**

 **I need information about Severus Snape. His past life, the skeletons in his closet, anything and everything that could be used against the man. Any financial burdens will of course, be handled by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin. Of course, that is meant as a statement, for we both know that financial burden and Malfoy do not go together. But I insist, Slytherin House should pay for the services. I remain, thankful for your efforts.**

 **Harry Potter,**

 **The Lord Slytherin.**

 _Oh dear! What has Severus done this time?_

Lucius smirked. Severus Snape had always been the oddball. He had grown into the dark lord's ranks, and was rather... slippery. A filthy half blood, with dreams of grandeur, dreams of becoming the Lord of Prince.

 _I wonder if he knows that one cannot take the lordship of an Ancient family if he doesn't have blood pure and potent enough._

Lucius knew that Severus had made it a point that he wanted the fortune of the Prince Line; and interestingly, the Dark Lord had agreed to his request. Lucius had often wondered then, why the Dark Lord would accept such a request. It was impossible. If Severus had potent enough family magic in him, then the inheritance test at Gringotts would have manifested the Family ring for him.

 _The test must have failed._

 _That was why he had begged the Dark Lord. And the Dark Lord, like the mudblood that he was, acted out of ignorance._

He remembered the conversation he had with Potter...

 **FLASHBACK**

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, do you know who know who he is?" Harry asked.

"Nothing much. He was a Slytherin who studied at Hogwarts fifty years ago, went off to become Head Boy, and then he had left all offers to work for Borgin and Burkes, before disappearing prematurely."

"Do you, perchance, have a pensieve Mr. Malfoy? I wanted to show you ... the real memory of the Chamber of Secrets."

Lucius' eyes glinted. To see the hallowed Chamber of secrets was a dream come true for any devoted Slytherin. He summoned his pensive and Harry drew out a memory out of his temple.

"After you..." he smirked. Lucius nodded and immersed his head into the pensieve.

He saw the teenage boy talk to the twelve-year-old Harry potter, while the Weasley girl lay beneath. And then...

" **Why do you care how I escaped?" said Harry slowly. "Voldemort was after your time..."**

" **Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."** **He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:**

 **TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE**

 **Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:**

 **I AM LORD VOLDEMORT**

Lucius gasped. Tom Riddle, that boy, was Lord Voldemort? It was... unbelievable. He wondered how the dark lord might have left behind such a memory to do his job and-

" **You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry — I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"**

Lucius's head jammed.

He blinked.

"WHAT?"

Harry smirked.

"You mean to tell me that the Dark lord, the champion of the Pureblood movement, is in himself a half-blood?"

"You are wrong, Mr. Malfoy. You see, I studied the genealogy of wizarding families quite well. Riddle's mother was Merope Gaunt, daughter of Marvolo Gaunt. She was a squib and not a witch. Riddle's father, Tom Riddle Senior, was a rich muggle. I am sure that you very well know the name given to the offspring of a squib and a muggle?"

"A _Mudblood_!" Lucius spat, his face distasteful. "You mean to say, that all of us Purebloods, were kissing the helm of a mudblood?"

"If you insist..." Harry shrugged.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

Lucius thought over the entire matter with disdain. Severus Snape, well that unhygienic fellow had tried to ingratiate himself to Narcissa way too many times, both in school and after. Lucius had never really liked him, as he often felt that the man, as unhygienic as he was, was a scoundrel of the highest order. Not that Lucius had any bad blood between him and Severus, but if Potter was after his blood, who was Lucius to object anyway?

 _Perhaps Damien would be a good choice for an investigator._

Lucius went off to his study. Potter surely knew how to make life interesting.

* * *

"Sirius! Remus!" Harry shouted in surprise. "what are you too, doing here?"

"Good seeing you pup-cub" Both of the adults spoke out together, causing Harry to chuckle. Sirius spoke again, "What is this that I hear about Harry's name in the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Evidently, Harry's name has come out of the Goblet of Fire, and as such, he has to participate." Dumbledore sighed.

"And the tournament is famous for people dying. Obviously, someone wants to harm Harry, and has thus put his name in it." Remus began.

"Actually, I would like to agree with you, but there is nothing I can do." Albus conceded.

"As always!" Harry responded. Turning to Sirius, "I am happy you came Padfoot, sorry I had not contacted you in the last few weeks."

"It is all right, pup. You also have your own personal life. Hell, I myself have been quite busy with Amelia." Sirius conceded.

"Is there anything we can do to help you in the tournament, Harry? I mean, I know about your OWL results and everything-" Harry winced. Sirius and Remus had been insufferable after hearing about his results. They had all but forced him to skip out of school and celebrate a boy's night out, and celebrate his achievement. The night had gone way too embarrassing-"and so if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Remus remarked.

Harry gulped.

"Sure thing."

* * *

Entering the sixth floor corridor, Harry braced himself for what could happen. If he had read the expressions on their faces correctly, then Harry would be facing some very angry people inside. He wondered if he had done the right thing by keeping his trunk in his dorm. Hoping it was safe, not that it would be harmed, not after the unbreakable runic array Harry had implanted on it; Harry went off to the passage to the Gryffindor common room.

 _If it goes overboard, I might as well move in with Salazar permanently..._

"Balderdash!"

The portrait of the Fat Lady nodded and moved aside, the door opening with a flourish. Harry observed the disdainful expression on her face.

 _Even the portraits?_

The room was filled with people. Students from all years, all mingling in the common room, as if some giant intra-House event was happening. They looked at the person who had entered and stopped.

Silence.

 _Not again!_

"Harry!" Fred began, "how did you enter your name into the Goblet? You should have told us."

Harry sighed. It was going to be the same. He applied a sonorous charm to his throat... "I will say this once. I did not enter my name in the Goblet. Professor Moody is investigating the matter and-"

"Oh shut up with your lies Potter," came the indignant voice of Ron Weasley. "We all know how much you crave fame and fortune!"

 _Okay! I am going to move in with Salazar!_

Harry sighed. "Ron, I will say this one time. Please understand it and do not make me repeat it. What I want to say is-" he paused, "-You are an idiot!"

"You Bloody Bastard-" Ron began with a mighty fury and dropping his wand, went over to pummel Harry with his fists. But Harry's post ritual body was stronger, and much more susceptible to morphing. His animagus senses on alert, his hands shifted into the powerful paws of the dire wolf and he caught Ron in the middle of his flight, and threw him backwards; his paws changing back to his hands instantly. The entire thing happened so fast that most people could not even see his hands morphing. It appeared as if Ron jumped on Harry, Harry stopped him mid-flight and threw him hard on the opposite wall. The thug-sound that was produced was the signal of a few ribs breaking, Harry theorized.

That had the instant effect Harry was wishing for. Everyone was silent, and completely perturbed. Harry stood at his fullest height. "Now, can I say my thing or does anyone else want to intervene?" He paused. "None? Good."

The sonorous charm was still in effect. Harry began. "As I was saying, before being rudely interrupted by Weasley here-" - the groans of the redhead still audible-"I did not put my name into the Goblet. I had no intention to participate in this damned tournament. Heck! I won the international dueling tournament for magic's sake, and at least fifteen schools participated in that. Now, Moody has this idea that someone put my name in the goblet for nefarious purposes. I have cleared it with the Headmaster, and I will clear it here again- Cedric Diggory is the Hogwarts' Champion. I am... simply on my own. My points will not be added to the Hogwarts' banner. So go and join Diggory's party if you want."

"The thousand galleons prize money. You mean to tell us that you would simply let aside such a chance? I am not an idiot you know." Seamus Finnegan spoke up.

Harry sighed. This was going to be difficult. "Finnegan, shut up! I won over four thousand galleons prize money from the dueling tournament and I donated them to Hogwarts." An excited set of whispers began at that. Harry spoke again. "I am the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, with monetary assets worth several millions of Galleons. Use your fucking puny mind, why the fucking hell would I enter a dangerous tournament for a thousand galleons?"

Everybody was silent.

"Now I am not really great at threats, but consider this. Two years ago, I was ostracized as the heir of Slytherin while it was me that defeated and killed a fucking basilisk and saved the school and thus, all your lives. You didn't believe me then. So this is my last word. You believe or don't believe me now, I don't fuckin' care. _But you insult and ostracize me, I will teach you pain. You attack me, I will utterly obliterate you."_

He whipped his wand in his hand, which sent a cluster of sparks all around, much to everyone's shock. Harry walked up into his dorm, collected his trunk, shrunk it into his necklace, and walked out.

 _Definitely moving in with Salazar now!_

* * *

"So are now unwittingly a participant in the tournament?" Salazar's eyebrows quivered.

"Yes." Harry replied despondently.

"And what is this...' moving in with me' stuff?"

"Well, the Hufflepuffs sort of think that I stole their champion's fame. And my own House was quite vocal about how 'I cheated my way in'. So, I don't want it to be second year all over again, and have to be alert all the time. Hence, I move in with you."

Salazar nodded. "You can easily go and sleep in the Room of Requirement."

"I will." Harry flashed a grin.

"Very well... let's move on to where we last left! Have you prepared your next ritual combination?"

"Yes. I am trying for the one with regards to faster movement. Metamorphs are characteristically slow, and it is only my innate speed that I can maintain the morphing and not be clumsy. I want to attain my fullest speed in a fight."

"Fair enough! You know the way. Work upon the blood rune combinations and hope for the best."

"I have a question!"

"Go on."

"You knew that I was an elemental. Why didn't you, I don't know, try and arrange my death? Nicholas told me that after having a conversation with you, he changed his initial idea of killing me off!"

Salazar had an agonized expression on his face. "You are my family, Harry. Why would I kill you?"

"Oh I don't know. Because Illusion masters are the last stand against magic-damned beings like elementals?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that you are not ready for the answer?"

"I would." Harry said, after a moment of hesitation.

"You would?" Salazar asked, surprised.

Harry nodded. "Whatever I am now, it is because of you anyway. You made me into this powerful sorcerer that I am today. Had I not met you, I would have... I don't know... tried to angrily seek out Sirius Black for murdering my parents. I would be ignorant of my heritage and be a blind follower of Dumbledore." Harry chuckled.

Salazar smirked. "There is a prophecy, and Nicholas knows it. A Prophecy about a young sorcerer who would return ancient family magick back into the mortal world. A prophesized one, who would re-awaken the ancient bloodlines."

"And you think that is Me?" Harry pointed to his own chest.

"I believe it is you. If anyone can do it, it is you."

"Pshew! Too many prophecies. First the one that Dumbledore knows, and now this one. And to think I was wishing for a normal year..."

"Understand this, descendant." Salazar almost rebuked. "You are never going to be normal. So embrace it. Embrace the fact that you are special; that you are born to do great things..."

A similar memory rose up in Harry's mind...

" _The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great."_

"The Prophecy... do you wish to tell me the contents?" Harry inquired.

"Not right now. Although I suggest you get the contents of the Prophecy from Dumbledore. We never know what the man might do next." Salazar suggested.

Harry agreed.

"Now, back to the principles of Attars' law..."

* * *

Daphne was worried. Ever since Harry's name had come out of the goblet, she had not seen him. It was as if he had completely disappeared off. Although knowing him, he might have very well done that. She had seen his face; it was devoid of emotion.

 _He must be feeling like second year all over again!_

Daphne knew that Harry did not fear being in the tournament. If anything, he would be the toughest competitor of all. She knew that the students, especially HufflePuff would try to give him a hard time about it.

 _I need to speak with Susan._

There was a knock on her door. Daphne opened it to find Tracy standing outside.

"Susan and Neville are at the Black Lake. They told us and the boys to join."

Daphne nodded.

 _Let's see what this is about._

* * *

 **###Pshew! The third chapter for the day. Guess it was a good thing I got the fever. :P Anyways I'm not sure if I am going to upload any further chapters before Jan 1, but I am optimistic! Please, read and review...**


	78. ROTS 34: Vengeance and Wand-weighing

"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."

Snape's eyes met Harry's, and Harry knew what was coming. His Occlumency shields dropped suddenly and a ghost of a smirk flitted across his face as he felt Snape's Legilimency probe dive into his mindscape.

 _Caught you, you bastard!_

Severus Snape felt himself standing a dark hallway.

 _Where am I? what is this place?_

"Potter?" he gnashed his teeth, angrily, seeing the dark outline of the hated brat come into view.

"Welcome to my mindscape, Snivellus. You should be proud of yourself, after all, you are finally successful in entering my mind." Harry sneered.

"You arrogant brat!" Severus almost shrieked in anger, and tried to force himself out of Harry's mind. He tried once, but the shields held. He tried again, but the shields still held.

"let me out of here, Potter!" he shouted.

"Why Snivellus? Are you such a wimp that you cannot break through a mere boy's shields?"

Severus gnashed his teeth. He had been trying his best to get out of Potter's mind, but the shields were nigh unbreakable. He decided to take a Slytherin approach.

"So, you wish to hold me inside your mind, Potter? Then I will ravage your mind till you go nutters." Snape replied snidely.

"Sure thing." Harry shrugged, his face shifting into a smirk. "If you are capable enough..." The wall that was separating his memories from his mindscape was in front of him, undefended. "Go ahead!" he remarked, walking away from the wall, leaving the path clear. "After all, you can only attack when people are disarmed and powerless, don't you Snivellus?"

That was the last straw for Severus. He used his entire magical power to dive into Potter's memories, but then-

The initially black mindscape suddenly turned shiny. It was still black but the surface looked very smooth and polished. Severus pushed his magical energy into his probe and sent it towards the shiny surface. What he did not expect was the entire probe to reflect back to him, plundering his own mindscape. Severus tried to use his own power to repel this sudden obstacle and after a lot of pain, he was successful.

Panting worse than a dog, he asked, "What was that, Potter?"

Harry smirked. "That is something beyond your comprehension. You see Severus, not everything is Potions; where if you know what ingredients to use and what the steps are, then any... _dunderhead_ could teach it."

Severus let a guttural cry like a wounded animal and let out his entire magical power behind another Legilimency burst. He had gotten himself ready for his entire power to lash out at the blasted surface except that-

Nothing came out of him.

 _Strange._

Severus tried again.

Still nothing.

 _What is happening? My magic?_

"What happened Snivellus? Your little core gave out?" Harry taunted.

"Shut up, you brat!" Severus snapped. He tried again.

Nothing.

"What have you done to me, Potter? Why can't I access my magic?" Severus shrieked.

"Oooooh!" Harry taunted. "The great Snivelly Snape doesn't know what is happening! Might I ask what happened to you that you became such a _dunderhead_ , Snivellus?"

"Just answer my question." Snape gnashed his teeth.

"Tut! Tut! You should learn some manners, Snivellus. You already have bad hygiene. At least, have some good mannerisms. So say Please?" Harry taunted, in a sickly sweet voice.

Severus gritted his teeth. Promising himself to make Potter pay for his deeds a hundred times more when he got the chance; he gnashed his teeth to make himself say. "Please, Potter." It hurt him physically to be respectful to the brat.

"Ah! Not so difficult now, was it?" Harry sniggered, "but you have said please, so I will acquiesce to your request. You see Snivellus, the reason you are unable to gather any of your energy is because-" Harry suddenly vanished and appeared right in front of Severus, who almost stepped back in fright-"you are away from your body. Your astral form is captured inside my mindscape. Your magic, your core is locked away inside your body. You are nothing more than a squib here and that..." he gave a nasty smile, "makes you my prisoner."

Severus gave out a jarring howl in anger. Then as if caught in a flare of insanity, he started thumping his fists into the walls. Blood slowly trickled down his fists, but the shiny wall showed not a single scratch.

"let me out, Potter!"

"Oh I think not, Snivellus. And you know what? I mastered a new trick recently. One that dilutes my perception of time when inside my mindscape. Do you know what that means?" His smile turned downright scary. "It means you are my prisoner for an extended time, despite all this will take seconds in the real world. And you know Snivellus? I know that it was you that cast that forbidden spell on Moony causing him to transform."

Severus blanched at that. How in the seven hells had Potter known that?

"Lies. You speak Lies. Did you hear, Potter? You are a bloody Liar! Just like your-

Harry dove into his mind.

Severus let out a howl of excruciating pain. His shields shattered right and left. Potter wasn't trying to see his memories. He has trying to destroy his entire mind. And Severus was useless against that.

Harry blasted through Severus's now powerless Occlumency shields. He sent an astral burst into his mindscape, destroying Merlin-knew-what. All he knew was that Severus was feeling excruciating pain, and Harry knew, that he deserved that.

 _Let's see what other secrets you have been hiding!_

Harry dove into the memories. It was flashes at first, but then-

 **It was Pettigrew standing in front of him, and was speaking. "You and me. We aren't different. Followers, both of us. I follow James Potter for who he is. A Pureblood of the highest order. De-facto leader of the Gryffindor students group. He has power, money, connections, respect...You on the other hand, follow the Dark Lord and the Slytherin group, for the same reasons. I have seen you doing that Severus." Peter's voice was slowly becoming more confident and sly.**

 **"I have seen how you** _ **desire**_ **after Evans. And I have seen how she treats you. And I have seen how you hate James Potter for trying after her."**

 **"What are you implying? What do you want?" Severus asked, curious this time.**

 **"I'm tired of following them. I'm tired of their puritanical beliefs. I hate the way That Black is using his charm and money to support Gryffindor and Dumbledore. I hate that I have to follow them for else, I will be hunted, I know that well. James Potter doesn't do well with... betrayal. I will help you poison Lily's mind against Potter. In return, you shall fix my way through the Dark Lord's minions. I want security, Severus. Security, more than anything. I don't want to die like the brawn Gryffindors I hang out with."**

 **"I will see what I can do."**

That monster! He knew that Pettigrew was a traitor. He is responsible for Harry's parents' deaths.

This man was a monster. With a furious roar, Harry dove again.

 **"My lord, I have a request."**

 **"Say Severus, what is it?" The man wearing the hood stood in front.**

So this is Voldemort! Harry wondered.

 **"The boy and his father, I don't mind if you kill them by your own hands...""But the woman... Lily, I have always** _ **... desired**_ **her."**

 **The Dark Lord stared at him for a moment. "You will get your reward, Severus. I shall spare the girl."**

 **"My Lord is very benevolent."**

 **The Dark Lord smirked. "However Severus, I want you to do something for me in return."**

 **"Anything my lord! Anything!"**

 **"I want you to go to Dumbledore and ask for forgiveness. I'm sure he knows who the prophesized babies are. He must have had them under protection. Tell him that you have seen the light. Join his school as Potions Master. Offer him your allegiance as a spy. Let him know that you are his."**

 **The Dark Lord paused. 'But you and I know, that** _ **you are mine**_ **!"**

 **"Of course, my Lord!"**

Harry sent out a roar of fury and sent an elemental fireball into Snape's mindscape. There was a huge sound as he felt the mindscape begin to shatter. This bastard did not deserve to live. Harry sent out a powerful foray, this time sending into the mind link that connected Severus with his body. The link was destroyed, and now Severus was a prisoner forever. Harry could feel the man's wails and cries. He was shouting in agony as his mind was being destroyed slowly.

Harry dove in again.

 **A corpse lay on the floor. Red hair spread out around it. A broken wand lay beside.**

 **His mom...**

 **The boy cried... he was alive...**

Harry saw himself, crying in his crib. He felt Severus's emotions...

 **The Dark Lord was dead...**

 **Lily was Dead...**

 **Severus had lost...**

 **The boy was alive... The trophy, the herald of his defeat at the hands of James Potter was alive. Looking at him with those green eyes...Lily's eyes. Lily.**

 **He wanted to end the boy's life.**

 **But he had lily's eyes...Lily, the woman he loved. he desired most of all...**

 **He stood up and bared his wand at the child on the crib.**

 **"Avad-"**

 **There was a screeching noise! Severus looked down through the window. It was Black, on his wretched motorcycle. Severus disapparated.**

Harry swam out of Severus's memories. No, this man would not die so easily. He would die, much more painfully. He had sworn to his parent's graves, that he would avenge their deaths. This... this was just the beginning.

Harry swept the tears of his face. His eyes glinting with determination, his palms extended outward, he performed one of the most powerful Illusion attacks he had learnt under Nicholas' tutelage.

 _The bane helix._

One of the most powerful illusory attacks, it basically took one moment of trauma, and multiplied the effects many times, making the agony much more unbearable. The victim would be stuck in that trauma every night the person would fall into sleep. The interesting part however, was that the victim would be _addicted to falling asleep_ , and thus a vicious cycle of everlasting agony would be formed.

And that would be Severus's bane.

Harry convoluted the memory of the entire proceedings into such a loop, and immersed it into Severus' mind. He decided to let him go for now. But then, another sly smile flitted through his face. He obliviated Severus of the proceedings and put the looped memory in a lock.

Now Dumbledore may legilimize him till he was blue in the face, and still, the old man would get nothing. Nor would Severus be able to tell anyone anything. He would simply suffer, like his parents had suffered. The Chaos sang in unison with his feelings of vengeance.

After the memory-lock was done, he yelled out.

"OBLIVIATE!"

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

"Yes, enter!" Snape called out, in a curt voice. It was Colin Creevey. The boy walked into the room and stood facing Snape. "Mr. Bagman is calling for Harry Potter, for the wand-weighing ceremony, Sir."

"Potter is presently brewing his potion. He will be going after an hour."

"Please sir, Mr. Bagman told me to tell you that Harry Potter is to reach there as soon as possible. The others are waiting for him."

"Very well. Potter, leave your things over here, and after you are done with your silly stuff, return back to finish that thing you call a potion."

"I am already done, Professor." Came Harry's swift reply. Harry walked up to him and submitted his vial. Snape inspected it and replied. "Acceptable. You may go."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry gave a lop sided grin and went off with Colin Creevey. No one could anticipate the cause of his grinning.

* * *

He was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye. Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

"Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come... nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment —"

"Harry? Where were you?" Fleur asked with concern.

"In class."

"Now come on, quick Mr. Potter. The others are still waiting." Ludo called out quickly and Harry moved in to stand beside Fleur.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry had only respect for the old wandmaker. It was him that had given him his first wand, without looking at his scar. It was him that had kept his secret of being an elemental and helped craft a wand suited for him. A smile floated on his lips as he stood waiting for the ceremony to begin.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand. He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches... inflexible, rosewood and containing... dear me... is this Veela hair?"

"From my Grandmother!" Fleur countered proudly.

"Excellent! Excellent! All though I never used Veela hair core for my wands, very temperamental, however to each his own..." He whispered, " _Orchideous_!"

A bunch of roses fell out of the tip of the wand. "excellent! Excellent!" He returned Fleur her wand, who pocketed it.

"Mr. Diggory? You are next." Cedric smiled proudly and submitted his wand to Ollivander who inspected it. "Yes, I remember it well. This is one of mine. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn, must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches, ash, pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition."

You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.

"As you should!" Ollivander winked. Harry wondered if the old man was being a pervert over the sexual innuendo of the situation.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied.

"And now, Mr. Krum."

"Hornbeam and Dragon Heartstring. Ah! This is a Gregorovitch creation, is it not?" Krum nodded stiffly. "Rather thicker than one usually sees, quite rigid, ten and a quarter inches... _Avis_!"

A blast and a number of tiny twittering birds flew out of the wand.

"Excellent! Excellent! And now, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled and handed him his wand.

"ah! How I remember this one! Perhaps my finest creation! Deathwood with ivory handle, and a fusion core. Basilisk blood, phoenix feather, blood and your own magic. I believe this is the most spectacular wand I have ever had the fortune of crafting!"

Harry stood silent, the fake smile floating on his face, inwardly frowning that Ollivander had revealed the contents of his wand core. Ollivander held the wand in reverence. He whispered something and exclaimed, "oh my!" Whipping the wand, he whispered, 'Pyros', and a shower of orange flames burst out of the wand. "it is in perfect condition.", he pronounced.

"Very well, now that we are done, everyone please return back!" Dumbledore began, only to be cut off by the reporter, "Photos! Dumbledore, Photos!"

The four Champions were then made to stand in groups, singles, in duos and what nots. After an excruciating torture of thirty minutes, the photographer was done with them.

"Mr. Potter!" A woman's voice reverberated. "Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet." Harry observed the woman properly. Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"I was wondering if I could have a few words..."

"yes, you may have two." Harry replied.

"And what are they?"

"Good and bye!" With that, Harry walked away, leaving a fumbling and angry Rita Skeeter behind.

* * *

 **### So this is my fourth chapter for the day! Gosh! That's now nearly 15000 words in a day! Hope you liked the Chapter. Now the next update will be coming in around 40 hours from now. See ya soon, and of course, HAPPY NEW YEAR! MAY YOU HAVE A VERY SUCCESSFUL NEW YEAR!**

 **### Read and review.**


	79. ROTS 35: Resurrection, Love and Betrayal

**JUST AFTER THE WAND-WEIGHING CEREMONY...**

Daphne was angry. No scratch that, she was bloody infuriated. Infuriated at the one pathetic tiny creature that was going to stubbornly face her wrath. The tiny creature who was her best friend.

Susan Bones.

She had gone down to the Black Lake, as quickly as she could, only to see that only Neville had come there. A few minutes later, Blaise and Theo, along with Tracy had arrived. But Susan was just not to be seen anywhere.

It was then that Neville had revealed that it was actually him who had called the meeting and not Susan. In fact, he was himself having a hard time, trying to convince Susan about Harry's innocence in that matter. He mentioned how Susan was completely vocal about Harry's dastardly behavior. They had discussed that they would need to bring Susan out of her hole and talk to her about what it was that was troubling her.

"Daphne?" Tracy called from outside her room.

"yes?"

"Neville and the rest have brought Susan to the Black lake. You might want to come?"

"Give me five minutes."

"What is the problem, Susan?" Daphne asked.

Susan scrunched her face in anger, and yelled out. "the PROBLEM is your fucking BOYFRIEND, who decided to steal our glory in the tournament. This was our only ONE chance for us Hufflepuffs to shine, and Harry, in all grand ambition, decided to squash that under his toe. THAT, is my problem."

Daphne could not believe her ears. Susan, her best friend, who was now Harry's extended family, was blaming Harry for something Daphne was sure he did not do.

 _How stupid is she?_

"Susan? Did you talk to Harry about this?"

"I have no intention to talk to that two-timing bastard!" Susan gnashed her teeth.

"' _Two-timing bastard'_ is he?" Daphne countered, her icy tone now distinct. "and pray tell, how did _you_ know that he is one?"

"YOU DAPH? You of all people are asking me that question? Did you not see how that - Veela- Susan gritted her teeth-"has her hands all over him since she has arrived? And that bastard had the audacity to stay with her in front of everyone else? How dare he? What is that, if not two-timing?"

"Susan, control yourself. I have not yet mentioned that I knew about Fleur because you sent that letter to me..."

Susan yelled. "What about that? I was just pointing out the bloody truth!"

Daphne was now losing her patience. She herself was a bit insecure about Fleur, but she knew that Harry would not ever ditch her. If anything, he had plainly told her about Fleur's intentions and also asked her permission-in a way- to continue his friendship with her. With a heavy heart, Daphne had accepted it. She knew that as a Lord of multiple Houses, Harry had the right to marry multiple women. It was rather quite ... nice... of him that he had in fact, asked for her permission. Reluctantly or not, Daphne had given Harry permission to continue his friendship with Fleur, and see if she could hold up an amiable relationship with Fleur herself. And now Susan, was calling her betrothed a 'two-timer'?

However, Susan had no such thoughts as she continued her drivel. "And not to forget how he smirked after every win in the tournament. He has changed, and has become so much more ambitious, enough to not consider what is right and what is wrong! Dumbledore put the age-line to prevent juniors, but Harry just had to break through it. It's not that he doesn't have the power to do that! And he did! Broke through the barrier and inserted his name, swatted away our chance to have some glory, just so as to feed his BIG EGO! Harry has changed, he even threatened his house mates- Tell them Neville-" Neville al this while was trying to signal with his hands a rather distinct 'NO-NO!" expression. "-how he threw Weasley over the wall and he threatened everyone in Gryffindor Tower- my friends told me-and not to forget he only spends time with that Veela bitch and—Harry?"

Daphne spun around immediately only to see the sharp outline of her half disillusioned boyfriend swimming into focus. As his figure became more and more clear, she could see the cold look in his eyes. She shivered at the memory when she had seen him looking exactly like that...

Christmas last year.

Pettigrew had imperiused her. She had hit him from behind. She had her to her whim, and was about to cast another powerful spell. His eyes, cold, with a frightening amount of emotion in them. There was no fury, just a cold blizzard so deadly, that it could freeze everyone to death.

And now his eyes were exactly the same.

"Ha-Harry?" she whispered.

Harry did not turn towards to her. He was completely focused on one Susan Bones, as if judging her whether to squash her literally like a bug or not. Daphne could see Blaise and the others looking in shock. Daphne did not know what they had thought about the matter, but it surely did not help that they had not objected to Susan's diatribe.

Finally, Harry spoke.

"I did _not_ enter my name in the Goblet of Fire. And I am _not_ a two-timer."

His words, cold. No emotion, just plain coldness. Much icier than Daphne ever was. It was as if, all emotion and warmth in his voice had deserted him completely.

"Harry-?" Daphne tried again.

"I'm sorry Daph."

There was a flash of light, and a sudden energy vortex appeared out of nowhere, engulfing Harry into its depths.

And then, he was gone.

Daphne knelt down on the ground.

She cried.

* * *

 **HARRY'S POV.**

Harry's mind was in turmoil. If anything, he was very thankful to Salazar that he had taught him Occlumency. Without it, the emotions raging inside him would have blinded him completely. But thankfully, he had learnt how to compartmentalize his memories and emotions. The way to achieve a fifth-level mastery in Occlumency was to effectively compartmentalize emotions. Despite that fact that he had just known that Snivellus was a monster and was responsible for his parent's death, he was able to compartmentalize his raging hatred away and think the best possible way to utilize the knowledge he had gained.

Severus Snape had been physically punished. Now, the second part, make his name turn into an insult, as he had promised. Harry decided that the best thing to do right now, would be to wait right now. Malfoy would sooner or later supply him some information about Snape's past. Harry could wait, after all, patience was the name of the game.

He was just done with the proceedings of the Wand-weighing ceremony, in which Ollivander had unwittingly shared the knowledge of his core with everyone. Harry could easily figure out the new wheels turning in Dumbledore's mind. The shock on his face had shown that Dumbledore was ignorant about that. Harry wondered what Dumbledore would do with the information. After all, the wand core of a wand revealed a lot many things about the wizard that wielded the wand.

Harry decided to go and meet Daphne for a while. Since the last two days, he had not met her. After his altercation in the Gryffindor common room with the crowd, and then with Snape and everything; he wasn't sure he was in the right mind to talk with Daphne. But that didn't make up for the fact that she too, deserved a part of his attention. Especially since Fleur...

He spotted Daphne walking towards the Lake.

 _Better. Now she will be alone..._

 _Good chance to talk to her..._

Harry walked behind her.

 _Perhaps I could embrace her from behind... she always loves when I do that..._

He walked close towards her. They had come to the edge of the Lake. He saw Blaise, Theo and the rest standing. Susan was... _shouting?_

 _What is happening?_

Susan was shouting. "-has her hands all over him since she has arrived? And that bastard had the audacity to stay with her in front of everyone else? How dare he? What is that, if not two-timing?"

 _Two-timing? She is accusing me of betraying Daph?_

Harry looked towards the others. Neville was completely silent, so was Blaise, although his expression was completely blank. Theo and Tracy, there was almost... surprised?

 _Daphne?_

Her face seemed... expressionless.

 _Why aren't you saying something Daph?_

Daphne was deadly silent. He knew that expression. She was considering some thought in her mind.

"Susan, control yourself. I have not yet mentioned that I knew about Fleur because you sent that letter to me..." He heard Daphne say.

 _What? Daph knew? Then all that? It was all a pretention?_

 _Daph?_

Harry looked at her... his eyes widened with realization...

Susan was shouting...

"And he did! Broke through the barrier and inserted his name, swatted away our chance to have some glory, just so as to feed his BIG EGO! Harry has changed, he even threatened his house mates- Tell them Neville-"

 _WHAT?_

 _Neville tell them that I just defended-_

Susan was still on her vitriol...

"-how he threw Weasley over the wall and he threatened everyone in Gryffindor Tower- my friends told me-and not to forget he only spends time with that Veela bitch and-"

Harry had long lost his hold over his patience. His emotions raged...

His disillusionment charm faded away...

"-Ha-Harry?" He heard Daphne uttering in shock.

His eyes had turned cold. All his raging anger was turned dead cold. Much unlike the elemental fire burning inside his core, his emotions were now dead cold. There weren't any tears in his eyes, just a humble realization that they had ostracized him all over again... All of his attempts to move over his past... they had resulted to nothing...

He was nothing...

 _Once again..._

 _I am not wanted..._

"I did _not_ enter my name in the Goblet of Fire. And I am not a two-timer."

He saw their astounded faces...

 _Daphne..._

"I'm sorry Daph."

His magic was singing in unison with his emotions... the energy vortex... one that he was unable to perform despite so many attempts... now came so easily to him...

And all he wanted was to get away... to vanish away...

 _Become invisible..._

 _It is the same feeling all over again..._

It was a humbling realization.

He took hold of the vortex and vanished away.

* * *

 **PRESENT TIME AGAIN...**

The wind blew ferociously over the snowy land. There was a sudden flash of light and energy all around as Harry appeared from the vortex. The area looked remarkably similar.

 _Where am I?_

The snowy path in front of him led to an old church in front. Beyond that, there was a ...

Graveyard.

 _I'm in Godric's Hollow._

The place where it had all started. The place where Harry had lost everything. The place where Harry had become an orphan. The place where... Harry had begun his path to become a nobody...

He treaded down the snowy path... the graveyard. He knelt in front of the two familiar tombstones.

 **JAMES AND LILY POTTER.**

 **The Last Enemy That Shall Be Destroyed Is Death.**

Was it really? The last enemy? No. If anything, Death was the gate by which he would be together with his parents once again...

His dad... His mum... His family.

His own, true family...

One that was snatched away from him...

He had promised them that he would avenge their deaths... He had begun fulfilling that promise...

But it was still not enough. And besides, what would he gain?

 _My mentors... Salazar, well he is family, but he had his agendas... the Prophecy._

 _Nicholas... he had his own agenda of preventing another destructive elemental war..._

 _Dumbledore... he was simply a manipulative bastard..._

 _Daphne... even she had listened to Susan..._

 _My friends... they had not refuted against Susan's words..._

 _Fleur... even she has her agenda... She is attracted to me. Her magic is attracted to me..._

 _I am just... alone._

 _Wouldn't it be better if I just died?_

"NO!" a sudden voice interrupted his thoughts.

Harry looked behind.

No one.

 _Hallucination, perhaps!_

He turned to look towards his parents' graves, and ... just stood looking...

Shock... surprise... wonder... fear... Desperation... Love...

There, standing in front of him, was an ethereal form of James and Lily Potter.

Just like he saw in his memories...

"Hi Baby!" Lily cried out, her eyes moist with tears.

"Mu—m!" Harry stood gawking.

"No! My mind is playing tricks with me!" He said out. It hurt.

"We are real, Prongslet!" James replied.

Harry's eyes filled with tears. It was not a hallucination. It was real.

"Ho- How?"

"It doesn't, matter!" James began. His voice was so remarkably similar to Harry's own. "What was this you were thinking, son?"

"I- I don't have any wish to stay here. Yes, Sirius is here and all, but ... I just want to be with you."

"That is no reason, baby!" His mother told him, her expression mock-stern. "We have always been with you. We have seen everything you have suffered. You have no idea how much I have wanted to strangle-" James held her arm. She stopped.

"Harry! You have your life to live. People will misunderstand you. People will hurt you. But you have to come back. It is your life. Do not let others manipulate you into doing something you won't."

"The Triwizard-" Harry began.

"I have seen what happened. I also saw what you did to Snivellus. While you were harsh, I do not complain. That man, he is a monster. Do not think bad of yourself for doing what you did."

Lily nodded in acceptance.

Harry felt his heart go light. "My friends-"

"They will come round- they are the ones who wronged you. Let them come to you and ask for your forgiveness. As for the Triwizard... well, _win_ the damn thing! Show them who you are!"

"I am an elemental, a cold-blooded-" Harry began.

"You are our son, Harry Potter, the future Lord of Potter. You are the future Lord Peverell. Make no mistake son. That's what you are. There is no good or evil. What you do with your powers makes what you are. You have the capacity for such profound goodness. We are very, very proud of you. We always knew you would do great things in life. Even when you were a kiddo, you were very powerful magically. It was for that reason, we put a bind on you." James intervened.

"I'm sorry that you both had to die." Harry confessed.

"No baby! It is us, who are sorry. We should have thought out clearly, instead of blindly going with Dumbledore's plan." Lily replied.

"We could have hidden in Potter Manor, but Dumbledore's idea prevailed upon us. I was young, and I was brawny. It is our mistake, that we could not be with you." James smiled at him as he finished the line his wife had begun.

"I... I am betrothed to Daphne... She is... very beautiful and supportive, and I love her. Well, I think so..."

"Does she love you too?" Lily asked, a smile in her lips.

Harry nodded.

"Then give her another chance. She is young, you are young, it is natural to make mistakes. Do not judge her too harshly for that."

Harry nodded.

"I will." Harry hesitated. "How am I being able to talk to you?"

James smiled. "Because Harry, you are the future Lord Peverell. That makes you slightly connected to the Hallows... wherever they are... The fact that we are here, is because the Resurrection stone _sensed_ your need. It brought us here..."

"And now we must leave. Harry, we love you." Lily said.

"I love you too, Mum, Dad."

"Good bye baby!"

"Good bye Prongslet!"

And then he was alone. Once again.

Harry stood up.

 _I suppose I should travel back to the Chamber._

He apparated.

* * *

"Ah! You are back! Any progress on the tournament?" Salazar's voice rung through the Chamber.

Harry felt himself smile. The meeting with his parents... it had solved a great number of doubts prevailing in his mind... Now that those were done, he was completely at peace.

"The Wand-weighing ceremony is over! After two weeks, there is the first task! It is something about facing an unknown danger... demonstration of bravery and all..." Harry winded up.

"How Gryffindorish!" Salazar pouted. "Well what are your thoughts?"

"I thought that I should solve the Gryffindorish problem with a Slytherin solution. I have ordered Dobby to spy on Crouch. My thoughts on that is that whatever the unknown danger is, it is most probable that Crouch, being an organizer, will know about it beforehand, and-"

"You will know it from him. Excellent!"

Harry smiled.

"You are looking better!"

"Got my feelings sorted out. That is all." Harry countered.

"Well, that's good. When is your next session with Nicholas?"

"Day after tomorrow. And I finally mastered the energy vortex."

"indeed?" Salazar raised an eyebrow. "I suppose; I should congratulate you on that. It is no ordinary feat, even for a budding Illusionist."

Harry inclined his head and gave a lop-sided grin.

"So, let's move on with the studies?"

"sure."

* * *

 **#### Okay so this chapter was completely an improvisation of my original thoughts. Initially I was hoping to bring out some action-packed scene after Harry leaves his friends but then thought the better of it. How do you like it?**

 **### I have always been irritated at the fact that the canon makes it such an overblown issue of the Deathly Hallows, and yet their actual significance is so negligible. I am not going to just let such a powerful feature of the HP world rot away for the last moment. How do you like my concept of the Hallows?** **Reviews, please.**


	80. ROTS 36: Here be Dragons

**Two days before the First task.**

"Master Harry Potter Sir! Master Harry Potter Sir!"

Harry turned back from the tome he was studying. After the ritual on morphing and Speed, he was patiently working for his next ritual set- this time, it was focused on Healing and rejuvenation. The tournament was supposed to be quite lethal and Harry did not want to die because of some injury that could not resuscitated in time. Hence, a compounded ritual for self-healing.

"Yes, Dobby?"

"I suppose you have news!"

Dobby nodded his head vigorously. "Mr. Crouch was talking about Dragons in the Forest."

 _Dragons?_

"Are you sure?"

Dobby nodded.

"Very well. Take me to the Quidditch grounds."

Master and elf popped out of nowhere on a side of the Quidditch pitch. The pitch was empty, and Harry remembered. The Quidditch matches were cancelled because of the Tournament.

"Which side from here?" Dobby indicated the direction.

"Let's see then!" Harry took out his shrunken Firebolt from his satchel and flew up towards the forest. After a minute, he could observe smoke coming out of a zone in the forest. Disillusioning himself and his broom, he flew towards the source. Right in the middle of the forest, there was a clearing. And then he heard, the deafening roar.

 _Dragons, indeed! Are the ministry people really crazy?_

Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting — torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to them. At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerized, Harry looked at them, and saw the eyes of the black dragon, with vertical pupils like a cat's, bulging with rage.

Harry watched the dragon nearest to them teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking — then, very slowly, it fell. Several tons of sinewy, scaly-black dragon hit the ground with a thud that Harry could have sworn made the trees all around quake. The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands.

 _Damn! Dragons! We are supposed to fight Dragons!_

He looked around.

 _Time to return._

* * *

"DRAGONS? You sure that the task has Dragons?" Salazar asked, almost excitedly.

"Don't you think you are getting a bit over excited?" Harry replied sardonically.

Salazar frowned. Drifting up in front of his apprentice, he replied. "You are the descendants of the ancient DragonLords. It is obvious, that I will feel some excitement that my descendant is about to _face_ his first dragon."

"Face my first Dragon?"

"Yes. Every aspiring DragonLord has to face a dragon sometime in his life, and defeat it. It was only after this particular feat, that his powers as a DragonLord would awaken."

"but you said that the ancient powers are gone forever!" Harry retorted.

"So were elementals!" Salazar countered.

"Point!" Harry conceded.

"What are you planning to use against them?"

"I don't know yet. I cannot obviously use elemental fire, that is a big 'NO-NO!'; I was wondering how Parseltongue would fare in front of a Dragon."

"You are free to try, but at your own risk." Salazar smirked.

"What is it that you are not telling me?" Harry asked, wary of his mentor's smirk.

"If I told you, I wouldn't be _'not-telling-you'_ , would I?"

Harry muttered something about overgrown childish mentors.

"What species of Dragons?"

"Swedish short-snout, Chinese Fireball, Welsh-Green and a Hungarian Horntail."

Salazar winced. "I do not envy the one who gets the Horntail."

"Any suggestions?"

"Keep an alternative plan in mind. That is all I can say." Salazar ended the discussion.

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry turned back to see Fleur standing in front of him, panting like anything. He walked towards her, and held her. "What is wrong?"

"I... I figured... figured out what the first task is!" Fleur managed to say, in between her breaths.

"Hold still. Take a breath." Harry ordered. "Now, another breath,"

After Fleur was more stable, relatively speaking, she looked at Harry and blurted. "I know what the first task is."

Harry stared at her for a moment, and then replied. "I also got to know it, this morning."

"oh!"

"How did you know?" Harry questioned.

"Madam Maxime told me." She confessed, her cheeks pink.

 _So much for bravery..._

"how did you find out?" Fleur asked.

"I... I have my ways." Harry countered evasively. "And it is good that you know, but please do not share it with others. You are throwing away a potential advantage."

"I am not going to share it with others... just... You." Her face flushed.

"Okay!" Harry replied awkwardly.

"Where were you all this time? You seemed to have vanished off the castle. I even asked your friend Neville and Daph-knee but no one seemed to know where you were."

"I was... here and there." Another evasive statement.

"You are not trying to avoid me, are you?" Fleur asked, a slight suspicion in her eyes.

Harry held her arms firmly. "No!"

"Well then... see you in the first Task." She reached up to his cheek and kissed him gently. "Good luck!"

Harry's hand automatically moved up to his cheek where Fleur had just kissed her; as he saw her walk away.

* * *

Daphne was in an emotional turmoil. It had been something like two weeks since anyone had seen Harry. Ever since that incident, Harry had not been seen anywhere, either in class or in isolated corridors. She had visited the third floor corridor, and wept her time off, hoping that he would appear, but somehow, Harry just wasn't there. Even the Point-Me charm hadn't worked. That meant two things.

One, Harry was in some place surrounded by powerful wards.

Or.

Harry had intentionally masked his magical signature in some way. And Daphne was not sure which was the answer.

Ever since that incident, Daphne had stopped speaking to Susan altogether. The redhead had been irrationally angry with Harry and after Harry had vanished off, Daphne had slapped the girl right and left, until Neville and Theo stopped her. Tracy and Blaise were just silent. On further discussion, they had revealed that they were kind of at sea with the entire happenings. But if Harry was insisting that he did not enter his name, then he must be inevitably being truthful.

Daphne had contacted Sirius too, but interestingly, it seemed as if Sirius knew where Harry was. He told her to give him time.

 _Time._

How she hated it.

Even Fleur had come forward and asked her if she knew. It made Daphne feel very small.

She cried.

"Daph-knee?"

Daphne looked up. Not for the first time, she wondered if Fleur mispronounced her name intentionally. Her mask up on her face, she stared at the blonde Veela.

"Yes?"

"I met Harry. Thought I should tell you."

Harry?

Daphne's eyes widened. Her stoicism vanishing away, she stood up and faced Fleur, right up front. "Where is he?"

"I don't know. I just met him on the second floor. He was going somewhere- and I called him from behind-" Daphne intervened, "When was that?"

Fleur frowned and replied. "Around fifteen minutes, I think." She turned back, "I should leave."

"Wait!" Daphne walked towards her, "Thank you."

Fleur stopped to listen, and then turned back slightly. "You know what Daph-knee, Veelas can get whomever they want. I even gave Harry the option to have me, despite being with you. You know what his reaction was?"

Daphne did not answer.

"He said that he loved you. And that you were the only one for him. I told him how my magic craved for him, and after that he agreed to talk to you about it."

 _And I pretended not to know.._... Daphne thought.

"Sometimes we _don't get_ what we deserve. And sometimes, we get what we _don't_ deserve. Which is you?" Fleur turned back and walked away.

 _What have I done?_

* * *

 **The First Task.**

Harry stood in front of the tent, in which the other Champions were waiting. Crouch was supposed to be telling them what the task was supposed to be. Sighing to himself, he walked into the tent.

Fleur was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as cheerful as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.

"Harry!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!". Harry wondered if the man was inwardly a despicable sadist, what with the way he was wearing his old Quidditch robes, talking to people as if fighting a dragon was like standing in line outside Fortescue for ice-cream.

"Well, now we're all here — time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" — he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them — "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too... ah, yes! Your task is to _collect the golden egg_!"

Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this.

 _Importantly, they all knew about the task! How all-true-istic of the judges!_

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking. Harry wondered if they would laugh if they too had to face a living breathing dragon. How exactly had he killed the Basilisk again? Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then — it seemed like about a second later to Harry — Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur. She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon — a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck. Fleur sighed with resignation. Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

Harry remembered the book he had been studying from, the one that talked about Dragons.

" **Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate. To fight a majestic creature like a Dragon would require ingenuity, and wit."**

Harry scowled.

 _Infernal Creature!_

" _Why are you cursing me, sorcerer?"_ Nidhogg hissed furiously.

 _Not you. This one._

" _Oh. Apologies."_

 _Accepted._

" _What are you going to do?"_

 _Something interesting._

Nidhogg hissed in anticipation.

* * *

Harry had been awaiting his chance to go out and perform the first task. It was better than, well waiting here in silence. He had a plan, and the longer he sat, the longer he would have second thoughts on the subject. He could hear some of the commentaries from outside and from what he could gather, Krum had directly hit the Dragon with some kind of rupturing spell.

 _Nice, but foolhardy. No point enraging the Dragon like that._

Fleur had in all possibility, used some enchantment of some kind. It was her best skill, anyway. Cedric had gone after that, and all Harry could hear where several 'oooh's' and 'aaah's' from inside. Finally, when the humongous bell rang again, he knew it was time for the show.

He shifted open the flap of the tent and walked outside. He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been conjured there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn't know or care. It was time to do what he had to do.

But where is the damn egg?

Harry looked around for the egg, only to realize that he was looking at the wrong place. Bagman had told him that they had to collect the egg, and not from where to collect the egg. As it appeared, the shiny golden egg had been magically stuck in the temple of the humongous dragon.

 _Oh! This is just getting better and better!_

"AND THE TIME STARTS... NOW!"

 _Show time..._

Harry whipped his wand out, conjuring a small metal ball, and then used the _geminio_ charm to multiple it into many. Once it was done, he walked up towards the great and angry dragon.

 _Time for Plan A._

" _Greetings noble Dragon! I wish you no harm!"_ he said in Parseltongue, applying a sonorous charm to his throat.

The Dragon roared in fury, refusing to acknowledge him.

 _Okay. Time for Plan B, then._

His wand in his hand, he whispered, _'ignis flagellum'_ and instantly a fire whip formed out of the wand. He used the whip to catch one of the metal balls and hurled them towards the Dragon. The ball flew high and just as it was midway, Harry transfigured it into a giant rock boulder, which hit the dragon hard, smashing against its nigh impenetrable hide.

 _Spells won't harm you, but physical attacks will!_

The dragon roared in righteous fury, the impact of the boulder visible by the huge scratches on its hide.

Okay! So the plan worked!

Harry repeated the step with the whip again, this time, hurling three balls, which also got transfigured into boulders, hitting the dragon. The Dragon, as powerful as it was, could not hold the attack of the three projectiles. The boulders, all rocky and about ten metres in diameter, were quite a formidable attack on its hide. The dragon roared with agony as the boulders struck it, falling down by the side, the boulders falling on top of it.

" _DRAGON!"_ Harry hissed, _"you will tell me why it is that you are not replying to my request. Else serpent, you will obey my command and let me release that false egg from your head."_

" _I... concede..."_ came a hissing sound out of the agonized roars of the great beast.

Harry smirked.

Now, that wasn't too difficult.

He walked up to the great beast and applied a finite spell on the egg. The golden egg fell down on the ground with a thud, as the great dragon gave another veritable roar of pain.

" _Release... me... DragonLord..."_

"What?" Harry spun back in surprise.

" _I acknowledge you... great sorcerer... please release me..."_

Harry nodded, hiding his surprise from his face, and transfigured the boulders into pillows. The dragon got up with great difficulty.

" _Thank... you... DragonLord."_

Harry felt his magic churning inside his core. On further inspection, he realized it was his Slytherin Family Magick.

 _ **At last... I am free... well done, young sorcerer...**_

Harry closed his eyes and acknowledged the greeting from his family magick. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the great dragon in front of him.

" _Do you need any help in recovery, Dragon?"_

" _I will heal. Do not worry, DragonLord. Thank you, for your kindness."_

Harry shrugged and then, realized the sudden silence all around him. People were staring at him, as if he had grown seven heads. And then he realized.

Talking to a dragon was surprising after all...

* * *

 **### Okay so that was the first task. Although I have not written about the aftermath yet, but you get the idea. Did it hold against your expectations? Please review.**


	81. ROTS 37: A broken mind

The crowds were silent. No applause, no excited whisper, no commentary...

Absolutely nothing.

Harry turned back to the great dragon. "I bid you farewell." He hissed softly.

The dragon bowed his head, and Harry felt a flicker of light.

Someone had taken a photographic snap of him. With the dragon bowing to him, it was quite expected what the news headline would be. He could easily imagine it, something along the lines of...

 **Harry Potter, Dark Lord! Taming Dragons under his will!**

And the funny thing was, he could not even refute that; well, not at least the second part.

He picked up the egg and walked towards the gate of the arena. Whatever the aftermath was, he would deal with it later.

The flicker of light from the photographer taking the snaps, seemed to pull Ludo Bagman out of his stupefied expression. He reluctantly placed the megaphone to his lips and shouted out, although in a rather low voice, filled with awe.

"Ladies and Gentle-wizards! In a most spectacular fashion, our youngest champion Harry Potter, has not only completed his task in the shortest possible time, but also, demonstrated magic unseen and unknown. I do not know how he did what he did; but ladies and gentle-wizards, Harry Potter has indeed tamed his DRAGON!"

A roar of excited whispers seemed to pervade the entire stadium. The reactions were of great variety, from cheering (Neville, Daphne, Fleur) to silence (Blaise, Theo, Tracy) to excited whispers (most of the Ravenclaws) to conspiracy theorists (Hufflepuff house) to indignation (Slytherin and Gryffindor) to outright display of hatred (Ron Weasley and associates).

"And now, I will turn over to the rest of the judges for their points."

The judges seemed quite restless (Maxime and Dumbledore) to indignant (Karkaroff and Crouch). Madam Maxime waved her wand in the air and a purple ribbon shot out, drawing the number 9 in the air. Dumbledore did a similar thing and a 10 came out, resulting in increase of the cheers. Ludo gave him a 10. Crouch gave a 5 while Karkaroff gave him a 4. A lot of Booo-hoo's could be heard from the crowd at such blatant display of partiality. But the main person, Harry Potter himself was absent.

"Harry Potter? Please come up front."

No response at all.

Harry Potter was gone.

* * *

 **The Chamber of Secrets.**

"What does it mean to be a Dragonlord?"

Salazar drifted away from Harry and started poring through the tomes in the library. He spoke, "A Dragonlord is a special kind of sorcerer. One that was lost in the sands of time. The ancient Dragonlords could command the great Dragons at will, they had control over the reptiles of the Chaos."

"Reptiles of the Chaos? Like Nidhogg?"

"Exactly."

"So what difference does it make? Nidhogg listens to me, well most of the time anyway."

Salazar nodded in resignation. "To be frank my heir, I do not know. The powers of the ancient Dragonlords were awe-aspiring, just like elementals or any other specialized mage. But the problem is, _only a Dragonlord can teach another budding Dragonlord about their powers_. Since I was never one, I cannot teach you."

"So all that bowing and calling me a Dragonlord was a moot point?" Harry asked, his eyes filled with disappointment.

Salazar looked up at his heir. "If you call that a disappointment, then all my descendants were huge disappointments to my heritage. At least a dragon acknowledged you, it wouldn't acknowledge me."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Then why me?"

Salazar did not answer.

"What about the Slytherin Family Magick? Can't that teach me?"

Salazar was disappointed with himself. He looked up at his heir. "The family magick is simply that, magick. Magick cannot teach you how to cast itself."

 _So I am a Dragonlord but without powers! What good am I?_

"So even if I somehow reactivate my family magicks, you are saying that it will actually be useless?"

"Not useless. If you are able to reactivate the three bloodlines in you, you can finally stand a chance in destroying that soul piece away for good."

But that was not true. Harry knew better. The conversation he had with his Family magick had been very clear.

 **"The other way would be to raise the long extinct bloodline abilities of the Eveningshade and Peverell. Yes, Peverell not Potter for they were the original ancient magicks. Reactivating those abilities should boost your magic enough to overpower the soul piece and get it back imprisoned like it was after the cleansing."**

 _ **But that would not destroy the soul piece.**_

 **"Yes, that would not destroy the soul piece," the mist said as if it had read Harry's mind, "but if you could overpower it with magic and will, there is a chance to assimilate the powers of the soul piece and integrate them into your magic. A little taint should still be present and it would bring about a slight change in your personality, but it is still a better option."**

He turned towards Salazar. There was nothing to be done here anymore. "I guess I should go. Need to know about the second task."

Salazar nodded.

* * *

"Ha-Harry?"

Harry turned back to see Daphne standing behind him. Her eyes filled with tears, her hair in a mess, her eyes red, it seemed like she had been going through a horrible time. But then he reminded himself, it was he himself that had been giving her a hard time. While he had somehow forgiven Daphne for her transgressions, but he had wanted to wait for a few days, and observe her behavior. The few days had turned into more than a week and...

 _Damn. Now I am feeling bad!_

Harry walked up to her and stood in front of her. She stared at his eyes for a moment and then threw herself on his chest, sobbing her heart out. There were no apologies said, no smug smiles of victory, no talks or fights, just Daphne's agonized silent weeping and Harry drawing circles on her back, trying to soothe her.

"I am sorry!" Both of them said out at the same time. Harry chuckled while Daphne let out a laugh amidst her tears. She nodded to him to continue.

"I'm sorry, I avoided you for so many days."

"Why are you apologizing? It is I who had listened to Susan's vitriol and let it hamper our relationship." Daphne complained. Harry simply smiled and hugged her back. Neither of them noticed the small smile on the face of Fleur Delacour as she stood beside one of the pillars of the corridor.

"How did you know that I was back to school?"

"Fleur told me."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"We had a sort of conversation. She is... not so bad as I had thought."

* * *

 **Some time later, in the third floor corridor..**

Harry rolled his eyes. "Daph! I'm sorry! I know I have been a terrible boyfriend to you-" -Daphne tried to interrupt him – "—no, let me continue. I know I've been a terrible boyfriend. I have often taken you for granted, sometimes more than what is acceptable. I know the situation with Fleur and all- but, I realized that being Lord Slytherin, I have acted like the worst caricature of a 'slimy pureblood'."

Daphne looked up to him, from his chest. Her eyes were still red with anguish. Harry kissed her temple and continued. "I don't know how to say this, but initially, I had this idea, that at the end of all things, you would leave me." He stopped her from refuting and continued. "I could not help it; it is ingrained in me. So, when I got the chance to be something greater than the Boy-who-lived, I took that chance. I began working myself to full potential because somehow I had convinced myself that one day, you would get tired of getting attacked and break up with me. Yes, the contract is iron-clad, but that does not mean you would have to love me and all."

Harry got up from the bench he was sitting.

"Then I went off to France, and somehow after that Dementor incident, I felt that you would want to be a bit away from me." Daphne's eyes narrowed dangerously at that statement. Harry winced at her expression and continued. "I thought wrong. But if it is any better, I am not exactly great when it comes to emotional thinking and stuff." He chortled.

"Then, I met Fleur."

Daphne walked up towards him and embraced him from behind.

"I cannot explain you what it was like. Here was a kindred spirit after my own heart. Her blue eyes reminded me so much of you. And then, when she had shared with me, what her life as a Veela was like, I could relate my own life with that. Somehow amidst the tournament and everything, we grew into close friends. That was before she told me that she had feelings for me."

Daphne's heart throbbed in anxiety for what was to come. Harry turned back towards her and held her.

"I straight away told her that I love _you,_ and that I am betrothed to you."

A smile lit up Daphne's countenance. A radiant smile that Harry had missed since days.

"She explained to me how her magic was attracted to me. She suggested that as Lord of multiple Houses, I could marry her as well in the future. But I straightaway told her that there was only one woman for me." He looked into her eyes. "You."

Daphne blushed.

"We decided that she could have her chance of talking to you, and if you were willing, then maybe we could come into some kind of marital arrangement. That was why I introduced her to you during the World Cup. Somehow you too did not get along as famously as I had hoped."

Daphne rolled her eyes. Understatement of the century.

Harry laughed. "After the Tournament, when we had our fight, and I had to explain you everything, I was feeling so guilty. But when I heard you saying to Susan that you already knew, I got angry. I don't know what came over me but I thought that you were simply playing with my emotions. I know I was wrong, but I am, after all is said and done, a mere fourteen-year-old."

"Clueless-emotionally blank-teenager!" Daphne counted aloud, resulting in both of them bawling out in laughter.

"That day, I was at first openly attacked by Weasley in the Gryffindor common room, and I can admit, my reaction was a little _strong_ than what it could be." Daphne rolled her eyes. Little strong! Indeed! He had bodily thrown Weasley against the wall. The boy was in Pomfrey's care for two days.

"I was suddenly reminded of the events of second year, and somehow, that affected my response. The article in the newspaper did not help matters. After all my accomplishments, I was back to the same thing- savior this week, destroyer the next." Harry chortled in disdain.

He steeled himself. "Then I found out that Snape was the reason my parents are dead!"

Daphne blinked.

"WHAT?"

Harry looked at her with a steeled look in his eyes. "That bastard... he tried to attack me with Legilimency, and somehow, I turned the table against him. I was able to enter his mind and view his memories. That bastard, he knew that Pettigrew was a traitor. He was the one who sent the Dark Lord behind my family. All of that because he _desired_ Lily Evans!" Harry speech ended up with a couple of angry hisses.

"I... that's just..."

"Unbelievable I know."

"What are you going to do to him?" Daphne asked.

"I have already given him his deserved punishment. Next thing, I will make his reputation turn to complete notoriety. I will turn his name into a cuss-word."

Daphne nodded.

"Just after that happened, I went off for the wand-weighing ceremony and then-"

"You came after us." Daphne finished for him.

Nod.

"I can imagine, with all those revelations about Snape and then hearing Susan yelling her vitriol out, what it must have seemed to you."

Harry did not answer.

"Where did you vanish away after that?" Daphne wanted to ask about the energy vortex thing, but somehow it wasn't of higher priority at that moment.

"Godric's Hollow. To my parent's graves. I was so... disappointed with my life...for a second, I judged the pros and cons of living or joining my parents in their afterlife."

Daphne's eyes widened. A cold demeanor flashed on her face. "How _DARE_ you? HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT? After all this, you ... you dare leave me alone..." She stepped away from him but he pulled her back.

"Leave my hand..." she replied back icily.

"Not until I have cleared the air." Harry replied softly.

"There is... nothing I want to hear. You... you selfish..."

Harry just lowered his head. "I wanted to die. Then, my parents appeared before me."

Whatever Daphne was expecting; this was not it.

"WHAT?"

Harry smiled at the memory.

"They were like... spectres... Not ghosts... as if I was looking at them through a mist-covered glass. They told me that they loved me and were very proud of me. They were angry that I was having so many negative thoughts. We talked about you, and my mum told me to give you another chance at least."

"Why-" Daphne tried to say, but Harry cut her off. "I have always wondered about my parents. Everyone told me that they were supporters of Dumbledore, and that I was just like my father with my mum's eyes... but I wondered... Were they happy that they were dead in order to save me? I always held myself guilty for their deaths; that somehow, if I wasn't born, maybe they would have lived or something."

Daphne's eyes filled with tears. And she understood. Despite all of his super-powers and skills, Harry Potter was broken. Harry Potter was still not free of the ghosts of his past. Somewhere hidden beneath that charming young man was a sickly frightened boy, afraid to come out from under the bed. She remembered his mentioning of his cupboard. Harry Potter was broken. And no one knew better.

Harry continued. "They told me that they were proud of me, and that I was their son, no matter whether I was an... elemental or not."

Daphne could not stop herself from indulging into her curiosity. "but Harry, how did they appear before you? No magick can bring back the dead."

"True. But the Resurrection stone can bring forth the souls of the dead for a time-being."

Daphne's mind was working overdrive. She had heard of the story of the three brothers... the deathly hallows... her grand-aunt would tell her so many wonderful tales of the magical world of the past.

'The ... stone? How did you get the stone?" she stammered.

I did not. But as the future Lord Peverell, I can supposedly use some of the Hallows' powers even if they are away from me."

Daphne pinched her forehead. "tell me again how many Lordships you have?"

Harry grinned. "Well technically, three. Potter and Slytherin by blood and magick, and Black after Sirius made me his heir."

 _Eveningshade is just a mystery to myself..._

"Right? And Peverell?"

"The most Ancient House of Peverell changed their name to Potter almost nine hundred years ago. The Potter family doesn't really have any family magick of its own, just the Peverell magick."

"Okay!" Daphne surmised. And then, a thought struck her, making her blush.

"What... what about the heirs?"

Harry blushed as he realized the implication. "Three... three heirs. The Black and Potter require a male heir, while Slytherin has no such complication. Apparently, my mother was the Slytherin heiress though she never knew of the fact."

Daphne reddened and imitated a tomato.

Harry's lips twisted to form a sly grin and asked her, "You sure you up to that? Maybe Fleur could..."

"Oh hush you!" She threw a punch on his chest.

"Owwww! Violent woman!" Harry complained good-naturedly.

* * *

"Fleur!" Fleur looked up from her seat in the Hogwarts library to look at the newcomer.

It was Daphne.

"Yes?"

Daphne scrunched her face. This is difficult. "I... I wanted to say that I am sorry. I have been a right bitch to you since days and did not try to understand your side of the story. So..."

"it's okay! If it matters, I'm sorry for barging into your love-life too!"

"so... friends?" Daphne extended her hand at her.

"Friends!" Fleur accepted her hand with a firm shake.

"So... what are you doing about the second task?" Daphne asked Fleur casually.

"Ooh-la-la! I get this now. Spying on me for Harry's sake, are you?" Fleur teased. Daphne was about to retort but she saw the tease in her eyes. "Maybe!"

Fleur sighed. "No, not yet. At least, we have time till February to decipher the clue. How is Harry doing?"

"I haven't even seen him with the egg yet." Daphne retorted.

Oh! Well, he will figure something out. He is Harry after all. Although as of now, he is in last in the tournament."

Daphne snorted. The tournament was rigged from the start. It was dreadfully obvious that Crouch and Karkaroff was completely antagonistic to Harry. Anyone could have stated that Harry's performance was better than the others. Krum had blinded the dragon, and somehow escaped away with the Dragon's egg which was in the nest. He had received 44 points. Fleur had enchanted the dragon to sleep and extracted the egg which had been attached to a rock behind the dragon. She had scored 42 points. Cedric's performance had been the worst. He had tried to transfigure rocks into dogs to distract the dragon but the dragon had not arisen to the bait. Daphne snorted. The egg was once again, in the nest and somehow Cedric had managed to extract the egg out. He had looked like the dragon had used him as a chew-toy, what with him being half-burnt and all. Yet, he had received 40 points.

Harry on the other hand, had soundly defeated the dragon and extracted the egg. His dragon was the worst. The egg, was attached to the Dragon's head. Obviously a most biased contest. It was as if... Daphne realized with a shudder... _someone was trying to kill him_. Despite all that, Harry had finished his task in record-time and yet he had received only 38 points, making him the last.

 _So much for interschool cooperation!_ She snorted.

"You should join us on the next Hogsmeade visit." Daphne told her, all of a sudden.

"Won't that be a hindrance to your privacy?" Fleur asked skeptically.

"No..." Daphne shrugged, "it will be good to have a change. I will take my leave."

Daphne left the library, leaving an astonished Fleur behind. No one saw the single tear that dropped down Fleur's cheek.

* * *

 **####AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, well, well... I'm done with the next chapter finally. And well, being a resident of Bengal, India, IST 05:30 from Greenwich (in answer to a review), today is the New Year, and that said, a very happy new year to all.**

 **### To prolific reviewer Lady Edgecombe, thanks for the suggestion. As you can see, I did take both your suggestions into account. Thanks.**

 **### Also I would repeat, to all those 'guest' reviewers, please leave a name or something, instead of the usual 'guest'. Too many 'guests' and thus it become difficult to ascertain who is who.**

 **Thanks,**

 **Arcturus Peverell.**


	82. ROTS 38: Insufferability

**SEVERUS SNAPE'S POV.**

 **NOVEMBER 3,1994.**

There was a knock on the door.

"Yes, enter!" Snape called out, in a curt voice. It was Colin Creevey.

 _What is this dunderhead doing here?_

The boy walked into the room and stood facing him. "Mr. Bagman is calling for Harry Potter, for the wand-weighing ceremony, Sir."

He sneered, the expression coming to him automatically, just as it had always come. He glanced at the detestable brat brewing his potion.

"Potter is presently brewing his potion. He will be going after an hour."

 _Now, get lost._

"Please sir, Mr. Bagman told me to tell you that Harry Potter is to reach there as soon as possible. The others are waiting for him."

 _Insufferable Gryffindors!_

"Very well. Potter, leave your things over here, and after you are done with your silly stuff, return back to finish that thing you call a potion."

"I am already done, Professor." Came Potter's swift reply.

 _How dare he smirk like that? Just like his arrogant father!_

Potter walked up to him and submitted his vial. Snape inspected it and replied. "Acceptable. You may go."

"Thanks, Professor." Potter gave a lop sided grin and went off with Colin Creevey.

 _Why is he grinning like that? Insufferable brat!_

* * *

 **Later in his own office.**

Severus Snape was a man of few words, and even less desires. After all, the two main desires he ever had, were never fulfilled. One was Lily Evans, and the other, the fortune of the Ancient House of Prince. Merlin knew that he was nearly thrown out of Gringotts after he had tried for the inheritance test of the House of Prince.

Pouring a glass of firewhiskey, he sipped it slowly. Relaxing in the easy chair, he let himself relax. His mind as always floated back to his life, and his problems because of the detestable brat.

 _Why did that bloody brat, have to live? Why couldn't he have died with his good-for-nothing father?_

Had Harry Potter not been born, sooner or later James Potter would have been dead... Lily would have been alone. He could have been there for her. How he desired her!

But no! Harry Potter was born, and the dark lord just had to go and get himself blown up. He had-

Severus dozed off to sleep.

 **"Welcome to my mindscape, Snivellus. You should be proud of yourself, after all, you are finally successful in entering my mind." Potter sneered.**

 _Potter? What are you doing here?_

 **"Let me out of here, Potter!" he shouted.**

 **"Why Snivellus? Are you such a wimp that you cannot break through a mere boy's shields?"**

 _Why that bloody brat?_

Severus tried to break through the dark room that was supposedly Potter's mindscape.

Thump!

Thump!

 _What is happening? Why can't I get out?_

 **Potter smirked. "That is something beyond your comprehension. You see Severus, not everything is Potions; where if you know what ingredients to use and what the steps are, then any...** _ **dunderhead**_ **could teach it."**

 _Aarghhhh! I will show that brat!_

He tried to send his entire power into his next attack!

Nothing happened!

 _What is happening?_

 **"What happened Snivellus? Your little core gave out?" Potter taunted.**

"Shut up, you brat!" Severus snapped. He tried again.

Potter dove into his mind.

Severus let out a howl of excruciating pain. His shields shattered right and left. Potter wasn't trying to see his memories. He has trying to destroy his entire mind. And he was useless against that.

Potter blasted through his now powerless Occlumency shields. Potter sent an energy burst into his mindscape, destroying Merlin-knew-what. All he knew was that he was feeling excruciating pain, and Potter knew, that he deserved that.

 **Let's see what other secrets you have been hiding!**

 _No!_

But he was useless. Potter was ravaging through his mind. He groaned and cried in utter agony. It was as if someone was trying to break his head from the inside. He bawled and wept, he shouted for the pain to stop but it kept on increasing. He shouted out in despair, begging Potter to stop the devastation. His fists had turned bloody by hitting and hitting on the floor, trying to get out. His eyes rolled backwards, he tore his greasy hair off, but the pain would just not stop. He began hammering his own head against the floor but it did no difference.

And then, it suddenly stopped.

 **"My lord, I have a request."**

 **"Say Severus, what is it?" The man wearing the hood stood in front.**

 **"The boy and his father, I don't mind if you kill them by your own hands...""But the woman... Lily, I have always** _ **... desired**_ **her."**

 **The Dark Lord stared at him for a moment. "You will get your reward, Severus. I shall spare the girl."**

 **"My Lord is very benevolent."**

 **The Dark Lord smirked. "However Severus, I want you to do something for me in return."**

 **"Anything my lord! Anything!"**

It was deadly silence.

And then the screams began.

"Aaarghhhh!" Severus woke up, his entire body soaked in sweat.

 _What was that?_

Severus jumped down from the chair and dashed into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face, he tried to remember what had happened.

Nothing.

 _Why can't I remember anything?_

His Occlumency at full power, he started to look into his mind.

There were absolutely no memories of his nightmare.

It was as if, it hadn't happened at all. Although, Severus only remembered the agonizing pain.

But nothing else.

Only, inky blackness.

Something was wrong. Potter must have done something. It was always Potter. The bane of his life.

 _I need to go see Dumbledore about this!_

* * *

 **Dumbledore's office.**

 _Should I tell him that I suspect Potter? No, not a great idea. He had become quite irritated the last day._

"what can I do for you Severus, my boy?"

Severus sneered. Sneering came easier to him than rolling his eyes.

"I am having difficulty sleeping." Severus suddenly felt like he was a five-year old talking to a teacher. The entire thing was silly, but there was no way he would go to Pomfrey for a _'sleeping'_ issue.

Dumbledore popped up a lemon drop and looked at him, amused. "sleeping problems? I am sure you could have brewed a dreamless sleep draught in a whim!"

And the man would just hit where it hurt!

"It's not a 'nightmare' issue. The problem is that; I am simply unable to remember what the nightmare was. The only thing I remember is the ... agonizing pain." Severus shuddered at the feeling-"and nothing else. It is not even in my mindscape."

"Interesting!" The old man replied. "Quite something new!"

 _Stop being amused old man!_

"I would advise you to try sleeping again! If it happens, then perhaps you should contact Poppy!"

 _How helpful of you!_

He jerked his head irritably, and walked out.

* * *

 **That night...**

 **"Welcome to my mindscape, Snivellus. You should be proud of yourself, after all, you are finally successful in entering my mind." Potter sneered.**

Not again! So it is Potter! As I suspected!

He tried to send his entire power into his next attack!

Nothing happened!

 _What is happening?_

 **"What happened Snivellus? Your little core gave out?" Potter taunted.**

"Shut up, you brat!" Severus snapped. He tried again.

And it happened again...

 **Let's see what other secrets you have been hiding!**

 _No!_

But he was useless. Potter was ravaging through his mind. He groaned and cried in utter agony. It was as if someone was trying to break his head from the inside. He bawled and wept, he shouted for the pain to stop but it kept on increasing. He shouted out in despair, begging Potter to stop the devastation. His fists had turned bloody by hitting and hitting on the floor, trying to get out. His eyes rolled backwards, he tore his greasy hair off, but the pain would just not stop. He began hammering his own head against the floor but it did no difference.

Just like the last time...

Severus remembered amidst the agonizing pain.

 **"My lord, I have a request."**

 **"Say Severus, what is it?" The man wearing the hood stood in front.**

 **"The boy and his father, I don't mind if you kill them by your own hands...""But the woman... Lily, I have always** _ **... desired**_ **her."**

And it was all the same. Screams began.

* * *

 **Ten days later...**

Severus just wanted to die. His life in the past week had been dominated by two things...his over-excessive desire to fall asleep (caused by the lack of sleep in all possibility) and the second, the agonizing pain he would receive in his nightmare (which he would affordably forget after waking up). How convenient!

After the last one week, he had even started to skip his classes, and Madam Pomfrey had to substitute for him. Although she had the students brewing only medical potions (an extra stock for the Hospital wing), it was still a much vivid change from the snarling, sneering professor they had stuck on with since the first day of school. Pomfrey would tell them about the ingredients, the why's and the how's of the brewing, the necessary precautions and everything. It was a good and interesting way to brew potions. Even the Slytherins looked forward to her potions classes. Dumbledore decided that until Severus was back to normal, Poppy would take over and a healer from St. Mungo's was brought around for temporary hire as the school mediwitch.

Severus had visited St. Mungo's three times so far in the last week, but to no progress. None of the healers could figure out what was wrong, except that just after he went off to sleep, his body would start convulsing in pain that was completely off to charts. It was nearly of the level of a powerful Cruciatus, except that the pain was localized to his head region. They tried administering dreamless sleep potion, but to no effect. The healers intimated to him that it was not due to some dream or anything remotely similar to that.

 _Bollocks! I would have known if it was a dream!_

The problem was that, after he would wake up from his nightmare, as Severus had begun to call it, he would simply become completely oblivious to the dream. No matter how much he tried, he wasn't able to remember even one tiny bit of detail.

It sucked!

There was another issue too. The healers had intimated to him that since his brain suffered such pain after he dozed off to sleep, his mind and body did not get the required rest at all. As such, he felt more and more sleepy, and every time he dozed off, the screams would return.

It was madness!

One the one hand, Poppy was slowly becoming a good substitute as a Potions Mistress (in his mind, that is), and that, was harmful for his reputation. He knew that he never liked teaching, unless it was teaching one of his Slytherins. He knew he was biased and loved every second of it, tormenting the other houses during his classes. But he also knew that Potion Masters were difficult to get, and that being such, Dumbledore would just have to keep him employed.

Now, however the situation was changing. And Severus was unable to do anything about it. At least, he was a recognized Potions Master. Poppy was just, a mediwitch. The comparative thought gave him a bit of sadistic pleasure. It hurt him physically to think that the days were passing and he had not once been able to torment Potter at all.

Potter!

* * *

 **Present date. November 25** **th** **,1994**

Severus crawled out of his office. He did not even have the capacity to stand up straight. His body had been irreversibly weakened; the lack of rest seemed to have finally caught up to him. It had been almost three weeks, ever since the damned nightmares began, and ever since then, he had not got an ounce of sleep. His hair- well not that it was any different, being as greasy as usual, perhaps more so, now that he had confined himself to the greasy dungeon that he called an office. His eyes were swollen and red, his hands and muscles now paler than usual and the only thing that kept him in the mortal realms was the intake of nutrient and invigoration draughts. For three times a day, Severus now had to serve himself with a highly strong dose of Pepper-up potion, in hopes that at least it would keep him mooing and keep the drowsiness away.

He wanted the pain to stop. Even death was preferable. He picked up the vial of nutrient potion he had asked Poppy to prepare for him. With one single gulp, he drank the entire contents.

 _Aah! Temporary, it maybe, but the potion has its uses!_

There was a sound of footsteps.

He looked up. Someone was standing in front of his office. The smoke of the dungeon did not give away the face.

"Hello Snivellus!"

That... that voice...

The figure came up to him. Those insufferable round glasses... that arrogant features... that unruly hair...

James Potter.

"Remember me, Snivellus?"

"Potter? How are... you are dead... you are dead..." he chanted, as if chanting would make James Potter go away.

"You would like that... wouldn't you... Snivellus? I on the other hand, would like to do this..."

" _Levicorpus."_ The wand swished as he incanted.

Severus's right leg was suddenly pulled up, and before he could do anything, he was levitated by his ankle.

"Who wants to see Severus with his pants off?" the arrogant voice sounded.

"No! No! No! No! NOOOOOO! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!"

Severus let out a huge roar. His inherent magic gave in to his wish, and the levitating charm fell off, making him fall down on the floor. He picked himself up and started to rush towards the door.

"Your fear and anger will not neutralize the sins you have committed against me and my family, Snivellus!" James Potter continued, in his cocky tone.

"You, stay away from me!" Snivellus waved his wand and fired, "Sectumsempra!"

The purple curse hurled away from his wand towards his mortal enemy. The curse struck him, and then passed through him undeviated.

James Potter smirked.

 _What is happening?_

The door to his office had opened up already, and Severus rushed up the stairs, stumbling all over the stairs, his mind terrified by the arrogant tone of James Potter who was casting that same levitation spell again and again. He reached the stairs that led to the Great Hall.

"Tell me Severus, why should I let you go?"

"Please... let me... let me... I will confess it all... I will... _Crucio!"_

The sickly red curse erupted from his wand and hit James Potter, who seemed to flick it off with a single parry of his wand. The curse hit the pillar next to him, causing severe damage to the area.

"Tell me Snivellus! Tell me! Confess your sins to me! And I will let the pain stop! Forever!" His wand pointed at Severus' head, he whispered, _"ictus dolor"_.

The stinging hex hit Severus in the head as the old agony returned back to him. He clutched his head and began hammering it down on the floor, causing a bloody sight in the Great Hall. The Hall was surprisingly empty, with no one to be seen.

"Please! PLEASE! STOP IT! I CONFESS!"

"Confess what?"

"It was me that sent the dark lord towards your family. I wanted Lily for myself. It was me that tried to kill your son after the dark lord was gone."

Another stinging hex.

"there is more. Tell me!"

Severus cried out in pain. "It was me, who cast that curse on the werewolf, causing him to change. I wanted to kill Harry Potter and lay the blame on the werewolf."

"What about Pettigrew?" James asked, in a rather warning tone.

"I helped him. I helped him many times. I sent him in search of the dark lord, but now please let me go!" Severus begged, his face and hands in an outright bloody mess.

James' smirk now became crueler. "You have confessed everything. Now I can kill you." He pointed his wand at Snape but Severus was faster. He swung his wand towards his arch-nemesis and yelled...

 _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

The greenish light raced out of his wand, and almost instantly, Severus found his world engulfed in a crimson light...

And then there was complete darkness.

* * *

 **### A Severus Snape's POV. I believed that if I'm throwing off the future of an important character, then he deserves a POV at least. Reviews, please.**


	83. ROTS 39: Pranks and Confessions

**###AUTHORS' NOTE: Hello everyone! Sorry for the rather long delay in posting this chapter. I was bedridden for the previous week and more and was having an insufferable number of health issues (You do not want to know) and hence, was unable to take up the initiative to write a new chapter and solve the issues. Anyways, I am back to proper health and will begin posting regularly again. Once again, I am very thankful to my reviewers and special thanks to the people who even kindly PM'd me personally to inquire about my health. I am thankful for your kind concern. Also, I need a beta for my story; someone who can prove highly useful in managing the grammatical mistakes all the way. Anyone who is interested can please PM me.**

 **Anyways, hope this chapter does some justice to the time delay that I took to post it. Please read and review.**

 **Arcturus Peverell.**

* * *

 **November 2** **nd** **, 1994. The day of the wand-weighing.**

 _"You are looking better!"_

 _"Got my feelings sorted out. That is all." Harry countered._

 _"Well, that's good. When is your next session with Nicholas?"_

 _"Day after tomorrow. And I finally mastered the energy vortex."_

 _"indeed?" Salazar raised an eyebrow. "I suppose; I should congratulate you on that. It is no ordinary feat, even for a budding Illusionist."_

 _Harry inclined his head and gave a lop-sided grin._

 _"So, let's move on with the studies?"_

 _"Sure."_

* * *

After a couple of hours training, Harry conjured his illusion vortex to transport himself off to number 12, Grimmauld Place. The building was looking as grotesque as usual on the frontage, and Harry was amused as to why Sirius had settled for it. Entering into the house, he felt the wards grant him entry. Being of blood and the Heir had its advantages. The wards would simply allow him in without informing the others of his presence. He sneakily went into the hallway to find Sirius snuggling Amelia on the couch. A sly smirk floating on his face, Harry flashed his wand out and whispered Sonorous on his throat, and then silently walked towards the duo.

Just when he was standing a foot behind Sirius, he suddenly shouted...

"BOOOO!"

Sirius was completely flabbergasted and in the sudden shock, Amelia threw him off and the older man landed on his arse on the floor with a not-so-silent thud.

"wha-ha—harry?" Sirius stammered out, half in shock half in surprise.

"Very eloquent, Sirius!" Harry smirked.

"Harry!" Amelia had put back her robes and stood up from the couch. "Nice seeing you and all, but aren't you supposed to be in school?" She asked with an amused smile on her face.

"Oh, you know me! Plus, being a Triwizard champion has its benefits!" he even let on a sly smirk with that statement.

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Well, now that you have come; have a seat. I will need to go and fetch some of the muffins I had baked. I hope you will love them." She got up to move towards the kitchen.

Sirius grumbled good-naturedly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"So pup, what brings you to your old man's house?" Sirius asked. Harry's expression darkened as he spoke. "there is something of grave importance I need to talk about with you. But it has to remain between the two of us."

Sirius stared at his godson's face for a moment and then nodded. "Let us move into my study."

* * *

After exactly two hours later and three Pensieve memories later, Sirius was shaking with indomitable rage. Harry thought that the older man was straining himself not to apparate back to Hogwarts and kill that bastard Snape by his own hand. But then, he started to take deep breaths and cool himself down.

"What are we doing about this?" he asked finally.

Harry smiled at the fact that his godfather had not taken any rash decisions. The mind-healing had truly done a wonderful job with his mentality. He spoke with a soft but stern tone.

"You saw what I did to his mind. Every time he falls asleep, he will be tormented by that memory again and again. The pain in his mind will not let him rest and thus, make him more vulnerable to further sleep, and further pain. A vicious cycle if you will."

"But pup, all that is nice and all, but what if he shares his memory of that attack with... Dumbledore or anyone else?"

"I might have put that memory event under a memory lock and obliviated him of the information," Harry replied back with a grin.

"Remind me never to be on your bad side," Sirius muttered, more to himself than to Harry, who just grinned back.

"So what do you plan next?" Sirius asked, quite genially, as if they were talking about their vacation plans.

"I am investigating his past, and the hidden skeletons in his closet, but so far, I haven't got any leads," Harry replied disappointedly. "He may suffer and might even die in the process, but his guilt... his guilt remains unproven. My ... rather brawn attack on his mind... I don't think any of those memories are fit to be seen in a Pensieve now."

"So, we need a direct confession. Perhaps if we could..." Sirius went into thinking mode. Harry could not help but feel wary at the extended grin on his godfather's face; It was eerily similar to the twins, just before execution of a particularly fine prank.

"You know what, Prongslet? I haven't pranked in years. Let's go pranking, although it will take us a couple of days to get everything ready."

"That's not a problem. Anything you plan should be within the next two weeks from now. The illusion will be gone by then, provided he is alive till then."

Sirius' expression turned serious. His eyes flared with a hidden anger. "He has to live. He cannot die, not now; not until his crimes come up to the surface."

"I guess I can do that. After all, it is up to me how much power the illusion holds over him."

Sirius grinned maniacally.

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks enjoyed being an Auror. Her metamorph abilities were a boon to her in this line of work. Although she was just a junior Auror at the moment, having passed out of the Academy the previous year, she was very proud of herself. After all, she was the best in her freshman batch. Well, not so much as 'was proud' as much as 'had been proud'. Ever since Harry James Potter, she thought with a tinge of jealousy; had handed her arse over to her, she had been so embarrassed about it ever since. It completely befuddled her how a teenager could have defeated her so... humiliatingly.

Then, she read about the dueling tournament. Harry Potter had won the tournament, defeating everyone else, most of whom were higher in age than him. It was so... humbling. She might have been an Auror freshman, but she knew that the training that most professional duelists underwent was at par with Auror training, both in physical and spell training. And yet, that teenager had won it all.

Nymphadora was just about to leave for her office when the doorbell to her flat rung. Wondering who it was that was calling on her that early morning, she strode forward to answer whoever was outside.

Sirius Black and Harry Potter, one grinning and one not, were standing outside her door.

She wondered if she should be wary, what with the way her favorite cousin was grinning at her.

"So run by me again why I should participate in this elaborate prank of yours?"

Sirius looked at Nymphadora pointedly, "because Snivellus is guilty of all of that, and needs to be punished."

"yes, but we could simply tell your wife and she could solve out the entire thing legally."

"Yes, but that's not the point. Unless of course, you love the way Snivellus calls you 'Nym-phaaa-dora!'"

"that was below the belt, and you know it!" Tonks muttered. She looked at the pitying look Sirius and Harry were giving her, and grudgingly conceded. "Fine! I will do it."

"Great!" Harry congratulated her and winked. For the fifth time, Nymphadora wondered whether she should like or hate Harry Potter.

* * *

"Step one, we need something to confuse his mind. Something which will make him believe that what he is seeing is the truth!" Sirius hit the board with a piece of chalk, making a point in his 'pranking plan'. Harry sat and wondered if Sirius and his Dad also made such strategies while pranking at Hogwarts.

Sirius looked at his godson. "Do you, I mean, can you do some illusion thing like that?"

"I could, but he is already under an illusion. Adding another illusion will counteract the original one."

"We can't have that!" Sirius snapped offhandedly.

"I guess not," Harry smirked.

"Very well, I believe this is where my Great Aunt Cassie can help." Sirius almost scowled, but then an elusive smirk filled his face. Walking towards the Floo, he threw out some of the green powder into the fireplace and called out.

"Cassiopeia Black!"

"Who is it?" came gruffly sarcastic voice through the Floo.

"Aunt Cassie, it's me, Sirius. Please come through."

"Ah! The bumbling idiot! Well, hold on!" The woman answered before coming through. Her elegant gait completely contradicted her age. She was at least, a hundred and twenty or so. It reminded Harry of Dumbledore. She was a crooked woman, with a pointed nose, really bright and clever looking hazel eyes and about six feet tall. Coughing for a moment, she stood at her full height.

"And what can I help you with?" she asked with a crooked eyebrow.

"Aunt Cassie, you just never fail to impress me with your charm!" Sirius remarked sarcastically.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Sirius. Both you and your dad were complete pants at that, so stop trying."

Sirius muttered something incoherent to himself, then turning to her. "We are in need of your prodigal powers. It is an enemy of House Black." He observed the sudden glint in her eye as he spoke. "We want a particular potion that will act like a confounding charm, and at the same time, decrease his mental defenses so that it is easy to make said person believe what we want him to believe."

"Ah! Quite cunning! So you want a combination of the Confundo and a powerful Legilimency attack in potion form."

"Precisely."

"Well, there is the elixir of nightmares of course, but it will induce in the victim potential insanity and excessive thirst of water, which are obvious signs that a person is not mentally stable, so we might need to cure the potion of those side-effects. I believe I can get started with some-" Cassiopeia Black began muttering to herself almost incoherently. Sirius and Harry could not follow her diatribe any further and decided to let her continue her research in peace.

"Oh, and Aunt Cassie, you have only ten days!" Sirius finally remarked. His aunt's face suddenly lit up by what seemed to be a strange combination of a smirk and a toothy grin.

"A challenge? Oh, I like it!" She let out a cackled laugh, causing Harry to rethink about the mental stabilities of the Black family members. The woman took some of the Floo powder and went off to her residence.

Sirius looked at his godson and winked. "Two parts over, now only three parts left," Harry swore to himself never to get on his godfather's wrong side.

* * *

 **Three days later...**

"Harry?"

Harry looked up and saw his godfather walking up to him. He shifted a bit to his side to allow his godfather to sit on the couch. It had been a rather common thing the past few days. He and his godfather would sit on a couch and talk for hours, trying to make up for the time he and his godfather had lost because of Sirius' imprisonment. Harry was always available to talk to the one person he looked up as his family, and Sirius was too happy to get to spend some quality time with his godson.

"There is something bugging me since yesterday, but I finally decided to ask you."

"What is it, Padfoot?"

"About your love-life or precisely, Miss Greengrass."

A frown immediately spread over Harry's face as Sirius mentioned her name; something that Sirius noticed immediately.

"Ah! So the two of you had a fight!"

Harry shook his head in denial.

"Then?"

Harry wondered for a moment if he should tell his godfather about it. Then again, his godfather was the closest thing he ever had to family. Sirius had broken out of Azkaban, only to protect him from Pettigrew. He had also tried his level best against Moony's wild attack. The old man really cared for Harry and that too, unconditionally. If he could not talk to Sirius about it, to whom else could he talk too?

"Well, it started from the tournament. You remember when we met in France and I had taken Susan away for a private tour?"

Harry had just finished explaining how he had heard Susan spewing vitriol and Daphne's cold reluctance to say anything. He paused for a moment, as Sirius got up and paced the room. Standing in front of a window, Sirius replied; not looking back at his godson.

"Quite a mess you have found yourself in, haven't you Prongslet?"

Harry just nodded.

"But it is not your fault; well not completely, that is." Sirius turned back at his godson and looked sharply at him. "While I'm certain that this duality of feelings in you has caused a right amount of mess; but to very frank; you are legally able to take in multiple wives. Daphne of all people must know that. That girl has a good head on her shoulders. I know that she must be feeling insecure about your attention divided between her and Miss Delacour; but the fact that you asked her for her express permission should have been more than enough justification that you were not, 'two-timing- with her feelings. Then again, it is quite possible that she was shocked at Susan's reasoning, whether she agreed or not. It might be very well possible that she was about to refute back but did not because of your sudden entry and then, exit without giving her any chance to explain." Sirius waggled his eyebrows as Harry caught up his implication. Sure, he had just vanished off; he had not given her a chance to explain things to him at all.

"Daphne Floo-called me yesterday, asking for information about her whereabouts. Since I did not know what exactly happened, I tried to keep a poker face and advised her to allow you to have some time to yourself and think the subject down, deeply. Seems like I was right."

Harry just inclined his head softly, his mind deep in thought.

"What happened after you vanished off?"

Harry looked up and was just about to speak when he felt that speaking of it would do the memory injustice. "Let's revisit your study again. There is something I want to show you."

Sirius raised an eyebrow but did not refute. "After you..."

* * *

Around thirty minutes later, a pale and crying Sirius Black emerged out of the Pensieve. Harry could only support him; he knew how much the memory had affected the man.

"Harry! Was that really Lily and... James?" he asked with pain in his voice.

Harry just nodded.

"I wish... I wish... I could have spoken to them..." Then he remembered, "The stone Harry! The resurrection stone... you are the last of the Peverells. Surely the stone can come to you if you seek it." He asked, more in desperation than anything else.

It pained Harry but he shook his head in denial. "Being the last of the Peverells, it gives me some kind of connection to them. My cloak being one of the three items."

Sirius' face blanched. "James' invisibility cloak? That's ... that's _Death's cloak_?" he stammered in disbelief.

"Don't know about it being Death's cloak or not; the family Grimoire doesn't shed light on that, but it is definitely one of the three Hallows of the Peverell brothers."

"And to think we used it for pranking." Sirius's voice carried a mix of amusement and awe.

Harry smiled at that and continued; "Anyway, being the last of the Peverells just gives me a slight connection to all of them. I can access the powers of the stone only under dire need; unless I am somehow able to find it."

Sirius nodded in disappointment. Then, his face lit up with a sudden thought. "Ever thought of financing a research expedition?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. He was just about to say something but then Sirius spoke up. "We will have to think about it, but there is something that troubles me. More than Miss Greengrass' apparent betrayal; I am worried about Susan's rather... unsavory vitriol against you."

"More unsavory than could be explained."

Sirius and Harry turned their heads instantly at the sudden comment. Amelia was standing at the doorway, her face scrunched up in a rather irritated expression. She walked up to the duo and looked at Harry.

"I am sorry I could not help but listen to your discussion about the happenings. Why Susan is being so... vexing, I am unable to understand. If it helps, I am sorry for her behavior. Trust me she will get her ..." Amelia stopped in the middle, but the two wizards understood the implication of her unsaid words. For all her loving nature, there was a solid reason that she was the head of the DMLE.

"There is actually something you could do, Amy!" Sirius spoke suddenly. Harry instantly looked at his godfather, shocked at his sudden improvisation. Then again, it would be hypocritical of him to complain. Improvisation was something Harry himself did on a daily basis.

Amelia raised her eyebrows.

* * *

 **A day before the First task.**

Dumbledore looked into his private Floo, which had suddenly turned green. He allowed the call and saw Amelia Bones on the other side.

"Amelia! How nice to see you! How can I help?"

"I have been hearing complaints about your Potions Master, Headmaster Dumbledore. I wish to discuss it." Dumbledore frowned at the comment, but opened the Floo gates and ushered the DMLE Head in.

"Please, take a seat!" Dumbledore offered.

Amelia took a seat briskly and directly reached the point. "I have heard complaints, Dumbledore, about your Potions Master. Severus Snape has had been incapable of providing any classes since the previous ten days, and I have heard that the school mediwitch has had to take his place as a substitute. For all her talents, Poppy is a mediwitch and not a full-fledged Potions Master. So on behalf of the Board of Governors, I wish to inform you that we have searched for another professor to substitute Professor Severus Snape permanently. After all, his teaching career has not really seen glowing recommendations. The past decade's results in Potions have hardly been exemplary to look at. I assure you, that I am speaking as the DMLE Head when I say that my point holds merit."

Dumbledore could not hold back a frown at her statement. However, he was simply out of ideas. It was true that Severus had not really brought out the best in his students, at least when it came to Potions. The man was biased and his bigotry was well known. It was his role as a potential spy, a powerful pawn; that Albus had kept him in the teaching staff. That and, the fact that Potion Masters were difficult to find.

"If I might ask, who is this new Professor?"

Amelia nodded briskly. "Horace Slughorn."

Albus was surprised; now, this was obviously a big surprise. He had been thinking of bringing Slughorn aboard since a few months. The man held potential information about Voldemort's origin and his path to immortality. He forced himself a sultry smile.

"I believe that would be better, especially if the Board had taken the decision."

Amelia smiled. "Horace will be available from November, twenty-fifth. He has expressed his desire to enjoy the First task as a casual observer and then join the school staff. My husband and I will also be joining with him, on behalf of the other Governors; to the school feast. I hope that is all right with you."

"Of course, Amelia! No problems at all." Dumbledore added smoothly.

Amelia smirked inwardly. The plan was working.

* * *

 **November Twenty-fifth... Earlier in the morning.**

Poppy Pomfrey was in quite a mess. First, the school medical wing, then the potions classes, not to consider the pathetic knowledge of the students; and now, Severus' demands of nutrient potion. She was simply, infuriated.

"Tippy?" the matron called.

A Hogwarts house elf, particularly one that was available for help in the Hospital wing, popped in front of her. "Yes, madam?"

Taking out a vial from her desk, she handed it to the little elf. "Put this vial on Professor Snape's table in his office. The usual place."

The elf nodded and popped away.

Reaching the appropriate destination, the elf obediently set the vial as told and popped away, eager to finish her other awaiting tasks. She never saw the bulbous eyes of another elf that hid in the curtains, looking sharply at the vial she just left.

After Tippy was gone, Dobby came out of the curtains and took out another similar looking vial. He replaced the vial with the one on the table and let out a toothy grin, popping away as he did. His master Harry Potter would be so happy that he had completed his task successfully.

* * *

 **The Great Hall, at the same moment...**

"Good noon to everyone! Today we are all here to celebrate a feast, both to celebrate the amazing prowess shown by the Triwizard Champions and at the same time, to welcome our new Potions Professor, Horace Slughorn." A portly man stood up. He was almost bald, with a round face and had a rotund belly. His eyes glinted, and his attitude gave out the air of a man who loved being in the limelight.

The students, Hogwarts and the other schools alike, applauded for the new professor. Even the staff table applauded, most of them knowing Horace when he was a teacher here, almost fourteen years ago. They were all surprised that the professor had made a sudden comeback after all these years of retirement.

Dumbledore continued, "Professor Slughorn has already been a professor at Hogwarts for decades, although he took his retirement in 1981 if my memory seems correct. He was the Head of Slytherin House then. The Board of Governors has decided that because of Professor Snape's sudden inability to perform his teaching requirements, Professor Slughorn will be taking over his position, as both Potions Master and the new Head of Slytherin House."

Every Hogwarts student exploded in an overwhelming applause. Even the Slytherins. Snape may have been their Head of House, but it was a fact that for all the man's talents, he was a piss-poor teacher. Even the staff were happy, especially Madam Pomfrey, who was happy to see her extra duties vanish away.

"Yes, yes!" Dumbledore soothed the excited crowd. "Joining us today for the feast are two of our school Governors, Amelia Bones, who is also the Head of the DMLE; and Lord Sirius Orion Black, The Lord Black."

Amelia and Sirius stood up and silently nodded their heads towards the student crowd, taking their seats soon after. Meanwhile, in the crowd, a little elf appeared next to Nymphadora Tonks, who had officially come to Hogwarts as part of the security personnel. The elf whispered something to her and popped away with her, something that went unnoticed the school staff, including Dumbledore. Only one person had spotted the interaction and could not help but smirk, his emerald green eyes shining in anticipation of what he had termed as the Greatest Prank of the decade.

Nymphadora Tonks appeared alongside the hyperactive House-elf in front of Snape's chambers. She felt revulsion at first; the bigoted man had often insulted her, too often in fact. Now, was the time for some payback.

Morphing into an identical persona of James Potter, at least as much as it was possible from looking at Sirius' memory of him; she steadied herself and walked into Snape's chamber.

The Prank had just begun.

* * *

 **Present moment...**

Severus Snape heard the sound of an elf popping out. His tired and almost addled mind recognized it.

 _Poppy must have sent another nutrient potion to last for the day._

His body had weakened irreversibly; the lack of rest seemed to have finally caught up to him. He wanted the pain to stop. Even death was preferable. He picked up the vial of the nutrient potion he had asked Poppy to prepare for him. With one single gulp, he drank the entire contents.

 _Aah! Temporary, it maybe, but the potion has its uses!_

There was a sound of footsteps.

He looked up. Someone was standing in front of his office. The smoke of the dungeon did not give away the face.

"Hello, Snivellus!"

That... that voice...

The figure came up to him. Those insufferable round glasses... that arrogant features... that unruly hair...

James Potter.

"Remember me, Snivellus?"

"Potter? How are... you are dead... you are dead..." he chanted as if chanting would make James Potter go away.

"You would like that... wouldn't you... Snivellus? I, on the other hand, would like to do this..."

" _Levicorpus."_ The wand swished as he incanted.

Severus's right leg was pulled into the air, and before he could do anything, his ankle levitated.

"Who wants to see Severus with his pants off?" the arrogant voice sounded.

"No! No! No! No! NOOOOOO! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!"

Severus let out a huge roar. His inherent magic gave in to his wish, and the levitating charm fell off, making him fall down on the floor. He picked himself up and started to rush towards the door.

"Your fear and anger will not neutralize the sins you have committed against me and my family, Snivellus!" James Potter continued, in his cocky tone.

"You, stay away from me!" Snivellus waved his wand and fired, "Sectumsempra!"

The purple curse hurled away from his wand towards his mortal enemy. The curse struck him and then passed through him undeviating.

James Potter smirked.

Nymphadora could not believe that it was happening just as Harry had said it would. Snape had taken the bait and fallen for it. Hook, line, and sinker. She was completely terrified when that dark severing curse raced towards her, only to be blocked by Dobby's shield.

 _Elvin magic!_ She thought to herself. The Potion should begin acting any moment now.

The potion was indeed wonderful. Cassiopeia Black had subtly modified the elixir of nightmares to a brilliant extent. The potion confounded the mind of the victim, allowing the potioneer to transmit a certain set of thoughts into the victim's mind. In this case, it was an avenging James Potter! Of course, in order for that to happen, the victim must, at first believe that what he was seeing was the truth, something that was only too easy to a metamorph to perform. Snape had completely believed that James Potter was back with a vengeance. She saw the vile man run out of his office in the direction of the stairs.

Nymphadora smiled. Part 4 was over, and now, only one thing remained. After that, the showdown!

* * *

 **Back to the Great Hall.**

The entire crowd was enjoying a really splendid lunch, all courtesy to the Hogwarts elves, and the feast was almost about to be over when- The door banged open and Severus Snape shoved his body within. A set of whispers filled the Great Hall on seeing the Potions Professor in such condition and some of the staff, including Dumbledore, were about to just get up on their feet when-

Their backs felt completely stuck to their seats. Someone had applied a widespread sticking charm to the seats. Despite their attempts, no one, teachers and students alike, was able to get up. Dumbledore glanced at Sirius who was himself struggling to do the same, defeating his thought that it was some kind of prank played by the old Marauder.

"Please... let me... let me... I will confess it all... I will... _Crucio!"_

The sickly red curse sprang out of Severus' wand and shot out, erupting a huge explosion of shrieks amongst the student population, seniors more than the junior students. Dumbledore and the staff were simply stumped. Sirius kept up a poker face while Amelia was trying hard to contain her anger. She had expected a confession, not an open firing of an Unforgivable. Only her Occlumency helped her retain whatever patience she had held back.

The Potions Professor had started to clutch his head in agony and bang it on the stone floor, causing a bloody spectacle. A few people lost their lunch in the process.

"Please! PLEASE! STOP IT! I CONFESS!" the man cried out. The crowd was completely silent, stumped at the happenings.

 _"IT WAS ME THAT SENT THE DARK LORD TOWARDS YOUR FAMILY. I WANTED LILY FOR MYSELF. IT WAS ME THAT TRIED TO KILL YOUR SON AFTER THE DARK LORD WAS GONE."_

Snape cried out.

The reaction was instantaneous. The entire crowd was looking at the bloodied professor with nothing but revulsion in their eyes. A few staff members tried getting up, but it seemed that the sticking charm was still under effect. However, there was time to try breaking the charm later. For the moment, the vile man was speaking again.

"I HELPED HIM. I HELPED HIM MANY TIMES. I SENT HIM IN SEARCH OF THE DARK LORD. NOW PLEASE LET ME GO!" Severus begged; his face and hands in an outright bloody mess.

If Amelia was shocked at the proceedings at first, she was completely stumped by what followed later.

 _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

"ENOUGH!" roared an angry Albus Dumbledore, and surprisingly, the sticking charm vanished, much to the surprise of everyone. The green light of the killing curse had just shot out of Severus' wand when his world was inundated by the light of the jet of crimson, a powerful stunner that Dumbledore had sent towards him.

Pandemonium reigned.

* * *

 **### Did that meet your expectations? Reviews, please...**

 **### I will also take this moment to answer some of the questions put forward in some of the last reviews. In case I do not answer someone's question (and it is not a potential spoiler), please feel free to ask me (review or PM).**

 **## Yes, Herm-Ron-Snape-Draco all look bad, but sadly, the story is not over in the top 20 chapters, especially considering that its been 83 chapters so far and yet the 2nd book is far from being over. I am sorry if readers want to read fanfiction and yet expect to find things completely similar to the canon-ish way. Move forward, Please.**

 **##Draco knew about Sirius getting the Black Lordship. Since he was absent at Sirius' party, it is completely a chance-factor that he might not know that Harry is the Black heir.**

 **##The next update is just NOW.**

 **##Yes, because the fact that Daphne has black hair (when some authors make her out as blonde) is totally and completely the most vital part of the story and no matter what the twists and incidents the story might have, it makes no sense. Right!**

 **##Rated M for a reason. After all, the story goes all the way till 7th year, when the kids are of age. You ain't expecting 13-year old kids to be taking part in something rated M, are you? Ewww!**

 **##Grammar and syntax? Right! I need a beta and if you are interested, please contact me!**

 **##Because Moody has a magical eye, not an ALL-SEEING eye.**

 **## Yes of course, I am working on this project. why else would I type over 5000 words on it since morning?**

 **##Obviously, Daphne understands. I thought that point was cleared out 2 chapters ago.**

 **##Thank you. Same to you.**

 **## Thanks for the wiki info. As you will have checked (I think), I changed the information later on. Thanks again.**

 **That's all.**


	84. ROTS 40: The first Mission

**PANDEMONIUM AT THE HOGWARTS' FEAST!**

 **SEVERUS SNAPE CONFESSES CRIMES AGAINST THE POTTERS! ADMITS BEING A DEATH EATER!**

 **SEVERUS SNAPE ARRESTED! HORACE SLUGHORN RETURNS TO TEACHING!**

 **YOU-KNOW-WHO STILL ALIVE?**

The News agencies were having quite a field day. While the First Task had been quite eventful, the aftermath had surpassed it in terms of newsworthy material. Just after the pandemonium at the Hogwarts Feast had been sorted and solved, and most of the students been sent away to their respective dorms; the castle had been invaded by Aurors and news reporters alike. The incidents had started with the Aurors taking away the stunned body of Severus Snape, ex-professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry. After that, no one had seen Dumbledore. The old man had retired back to the confines of his personal office, and had not responded to any calls from anyone. Amelia and Sirius had both given sworn statements; both as Governors and spectators; and had stated to the reporters that the Government would be taking the entire thing very seriously.

As far as the Hogwarts students were concerned, there was a state of complete pandemonium all around. To see one of their own Professors casting unforgivable curses in public had shattered the innocence of many. Quite a number of the population were having double thoughts about continuing to pursue their studies at Hogwarts. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were very happy to talk to them and rave about how their own facilities were superior. The worst thing was that not even the Hogwarts staff could refute that. After all, since 1991, every year, there had been at least one grave incident involving a teacher. First was Quirrel, an incompetent stuttering moron who knew nothing and was actually possessed none other than You-know-who's spirit. Then the Chamber of Secrets and all that with Gilderoy Lockhart, and Merlin knew that the man was a worse moron than Quirrel in every way. In third year, the professor was actually decent but nearly killed Harry Potter and the twins, by transforming into a werewolf. Now, they had to find out that their Potions Professor was actually a death-eater who fought for You-know-who!

At least, it was not the Defense Professor this time.

The Hogwarts owlery was completely deserted by nightfall; what with the way hordes of students were sending letters to their parents. The disorientation was not just limited to the Purebloods; for even the muggle born were stupefied with the happenings. The Headmaster had still not got out of his self-imposed confinement, and the other Professors were finding it quite a grueling task of maintaining proper decorum at school. The Triwizard Tournament was another unnecessary overhead to the entire thing.

After a day of mess management (some of which included a number of rather harsh implementations from the school staff), the school atmosphere had descended into calmness. The Aurors had taken Snape away and locked him in one of the Ministry holding-cells, albeit one with a very strong silencing charm ( a necessity for them, what with the way the Potions Master was yelling, shouting and cursing). Slughorn had taken over the reins of his Old House very quickly and in one single day, the students in Slytherin House felt the difference. Slughorn, for all his faults, was a bloody good administrator. He immediately called for a Prefect's meeting and sent the rest of the Slytherin students back to their dorms (After getting over the shock himself of course). As expected, Malfoy had yelled out in despair at the thought of his godfather taken away which had resulted in three broken bones, courtesy to a bunch of angry Hufflepuffs, who were completely antagonistic to the fact that Malfoy was calling for that vile man to return to Hogwarts.

The rest of the Hufflepuffs had been quite subdued at the harsh reality check. Their familiar castle seemed so unfamiliar and a foreboding sensation gripped them all. The familiar corridors seemed strangely distant, after all; how could they feel safe when one of their own teachers was a killer?

The Gryffindors had become much more firm in their beliefs that Slytherin house was a house of dark wizards, well considering how their Head of House was a killer himself. Ron Weasley was shouting to anyone who would listen that every Slytherin was a dark-wizard in making, bringing nasty looks to himself. When Seamus Finnegan pointed it out that he himself had hung out with Malfoy of all people, Ron quickly changed track to divert the entire thing to the lines of 'he was mind-controlled' or something. There was also something along the lines of an Imperius charm of all things. Harry was almost amused at how Ron's behavior had mirrored that of Lucius Malfoy himself after the end of the War with Voldemort. Things took a nasty turn when Weasley began pointing at Daphne and accusing her of being dark and how she was manipulating Potter and everything. It was a good thing that Neville quickly stunned him before things could roll into something more serious.

Speaking of Neville, the boy had met with Harry and openly apologized to him for his behavior. He openly declared that since Harry was his god brother, Neville should have stood for him, instead of staying silent while Susan was spewing her baseless accusations. Tracey, Theo and Blaise had also approached him and apologized. Harry had accepted their apologies, although he did seem to be a bit cold towards them. After all, they had not believed him despite him openly saying that he was not interested in the tournament.

As far as Susan was concerned, the redhead was being through one hell of a time. Amelia had taken her away for two days, and no one had heard any news of her. Harry had an idea of what might have conspired, knowing Amelia, and he knew very well that the redhead was in for one hell of a lecture. Although knowing how much Amelia was incensed about the entire thing, Harry could bet that Susan was in for the mother of all lectures. Not that Harry was sympathetic; in fact, he was quite indifferent to it. He had personally tried to explain to Susan right there at the tournament, but in return, Susan had secretly tried to instill some kind of suspicion in Daphne's heart about him. It was betrayal and Harry was just not in the mood to do that. After what Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore had done; Harry had become quite hard-hearted when it came to dealing with betrayal.

* * *

Two days had passed and things had now turned to normal; or well, as much normal as it could be at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The students were sitting in the Great Hall, having their lunch when suddenly, Ron Weasley yelled out, killing the unusual silence in the Great Hall.

"Hey Potter! Why are you still sitting with the dark wizards? Come back to Gryffindor table where you belong!" he shouted, getting Harry's attention. Harry had accompanied his girlfriend for lunch at the Slytherin table like usual.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"Have you lost your common sense?"

The two twins whispered angrily at him, shocked at the blatant way in which their younger brother (shameful, but still) was putting the proverbial foot in his mouth and openly instigating the Slytherin students. They was a near silent commotion and anxious whisperings from the Slytherin table who were glaring at Weasley.

Harry had enough. He stood up and looked at Ron.

"Tell me Weasley. I know you are an idiot and all, but why exactly are you trying to attract my anger towards you?"

"Because somebody needs to set you right, Potter! Can't have you mingling with those slimy Slytherins and turn out to be another dark lord, can I? Already you are a parselmouth and everything!" Weasley babbled.

"Oh, so Slytherins are dark, are they? Then pray tell who the Light is? You?" Harry taunted. The Slytherins were all mightily quiet, almost stupefied by the happenings. A Gryffindor, even if it was Potter, taking the side of Slytherins. The very house that had consistently tried to make his life difficult at Hogwarts. Yes, things had changed a lot since the previous year, but given how Snape was proven to be a death-eater and a killer, they did not expect the Gryffindor golden boy to fight against Weasley, all the while, defending their side.

"Of course! What can you expect from the House which had a death-eater for a Head of House?" Ron yelled, joined by Dean and Mclaggen who were beginning to voice their opinions.

"Like Weasley here harbored a death-eater inside his house for twelve years? Isn't that right, Weasley?" Harry taunted.

Ron's face flushed with red in anger. Harry did not ever anticipate that the redhead could go any redder. However, Ron Weasley once again proved that when it came to anger, eating or being an idiot, Ronald Weasley was indeed, the King.

"Don't go there, Potter. You know very well that I did not know that Pettigrew was hiding as my rat." He hastily defended. The twins kept on looking from one side to another, almost enjoying the banter that was going on.

"Right, so if you can be innocent in this case; then why can't Slytherin House be held innocent too? After all, it's not like they knew that their Head of House was a killer." He held his palm up to stop Weasley's tirade. "—after all, Snape was appointed by none other than Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light, the person you worship. What does that make you Weasley? Should the students over here-" he pointed all over the Great Hall—"—file an injunction against Dumbledore and his faction, namely you, for harboring death-eaters, namely Snape and Pettigrew under your very roof, and yet trying to openly insult the other factions in public? Quite hypocritical of you, honestly."

The whisperings in the Great Hall suddenly rose by a couple of notches and soon, many students were glaring at Weasley. At least Ron had the sense to just shut up and sit down.

"Thought so." Harry muttered, if a bit loud; and sat down to finish his meal.

"Well said, Potter. And thanks for the public support." Harry turned to find Miranda Smith, the seventh year prefect, standing behind him. He just shrugged and let out a smile, before returning to his meal.

* * *

"May I come in, Professor?"

Alastor Moody looked up from his papers to see Harry Potter standing at the doorway.

"Come in, lass!" he replied in his usual gruff voice.

"I got your note."

Alastor waved his wand and the door closed off. He flicked his wand and moved it in a half-circle, activating a privacy ward. Then, looking up at his student, he opened his drawer and took out a letter, handing it out to him.

"This contains all the information about your first task as an operative. I had been to the grounds for a visit and they gave me a letter, telling me to forward it to you. More than a decade of service and they treat you as their personal owl." He grumbled.

Harry grinned. Only in Alastor Moody's mind, the 'torturous practice-chamber' was comparable to 'grounds'.

"My first Mission?"

"Yes. I know they provided you with a time-turner device to help you synchronize with your classes and your training. I suppose you have not been overusing it?"

Harry nodded. He had barely used the time-turner, if at all. Use of a time-turner caused chronological shifts in the magical core of a wizard. He was happy enough with the one Salazar had given him. It was free from such deficiencies.

"Good. Now this mission could span over a day at minimum, to a week at maximum. I suppose you can apply for a leave on grounds of 'house business' and stuff?"

Harry nodded. "That won't be a problem, sir."

Alastor nodded. "The details are in there. That letter contains the time of departure and everything. If you didn't guess it, that letter is the portkey for your departure."

Harry had already sensed the radiating portkey magic that was emanating from the parchment, but he did not say anything.

"That will be all."

Harry left the room.

* * *

 **One day later...**

"Operatives, we are here for your next mission. This will be a level three mission, namely you need to bring back prisoners. Location is Bulgaria. The ICW gave this mission to us and hence becomes a matter of priority. We have intelligence that there is a dealing of level 5 cursed goods occurring in Bulgaria and that people from five countries, namely Britain, France, Siberia, Bulgaria and Spain are in the deal. Our job, confiscate the goods, arrest and imprison the dealers. However, if the situation goes FUBAR, you know what to do." Matthews explained.

"FUBAR?" Harry, or rather, Evan asked one of his fellow operatives.

"Fucked up beyond all reason." The other operative whispered back.

Evan chuckled.

"So if the situation goes beyond control-"

"We kill anyone who resists."

"Got it."

"Good."

"Now that we are done with the whisperings, let us focus back to the mission," Matthews reprimanded, shutting off the whisperings immediately. "Now, there are five of you in this mission. Devin will take care of the coordinating job. Evans and Mark will take on the offensive side, and Clare and Alex will hold the defense. The portkeys will take you to the destination. Best of luck, everyone. The Portkey should begin-" he checked his watch, "—right about... NOW!"

With a rather large pop sound, the five portkeys took off simultaneously as the five operatives vanished off from the control room.

* * *

The group popped out of nowhere in the middle of a forest. Checking the coordinates using a rather queer looking contraption that they all had in their Unspeakable gear, the group waited for Devin to provide instructions.

Devin used his Omniocular–like gadget to inspect the entire area. Satisfied with his inspection, he began. "Okay listen up you lot, the area is a killing zone, clean and simple. The outer wards are quite rudimentary, but the number of potential ward stones inside the building seem too many for such simple warding."

"So they have powerful wards which will activate when we go in." Evan commented. "Never mind keeping intruders out, keep them in."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Devin returned. "I and Evan shall attack on the front, while Clare and Alex will try to capture the guards on the watch towers. And Mark,-" Devin looked at Mark who sharply turned to him, "—you shall stand over the main ridge and take out potential guards within."

Everyone nodded.

"Let's do it."

Mark immediately apparated and took his position on the ridge. Being a sharp shooter and quite an expert on long-range attacks, Mark was good at what he did. Clare and Alex took out their brooms and disillusioned themselves, flying off to the two towers on either side of the fort-like building. Devin and Evan appeared in front of the main gates.

"Give them Hell." Devin communicated over the microphone. Evan simply acknowledged him with a nod and apparated away.

* * *

Evan apparated in front of the first ward and with an overpowered reductor, he hit the main intrusion ward, which shattered with a bang, giving out a huge thunder, and in a flash, at least thirty hooded men ran out, wands waving and firing towards the intruders.

"Show time!" Evan whispered to himself, as he took out the first guard with a severing curse. It hit the guard at the groin, making the man drop down in agony. With a smirk that remained unseen; thanks to the hooded robes he was wearing, Evan plunged into the battle.

"The outer ward stone is in the south corner." Devin spoke out to Evan who immediately apparated to the south-end of the main platform and found himself standing in front of at least ten guards.

"Are you sure you are not trying to kill me?" Evan admonished, his wand quickly casting a powerful shield to stop the incoming volley of bone-breakers that flew towards him. He apparated on top on the top of a pillar nearby and jumped down to the ground, firing out two wide-area severing curses. Two of the guards were caught off-guard and lost their heads. The rest escaped with minor injuries. Dropping down on the ground, Evan sent out a huge energy burst that blasted the rest of the guards off their feet. Not giving them a chance to recover, Evan cast a number of well-placed bone-breakers on the necks of the fallen guards.

 _That should incapacitate if not kill them._

The wardstone lay in front of him, protected in a heavy-duty bunker shield. Such shields were highly resistant of blasting and exploding curses. Nevertheless, Evan was anything but conventional; he simply cast an aguamenti charm that wet the metal bunker, followed by a Glacius, which froze it. The metal bunker cracked under the pressure of the ice developing within it and bulged open. Evan rapid fired two powerful Everbero curses, which blasted the wardstone into smithereens.

Immediately everyone felt the effect of the wards vanishing.

"Good job Evan!" Clare's voice resounded through the microphone.

Evan smirked.

* * *

Devin and Alex had double-teamed against a group of ten guards and had successfully incapacitated them. Satisfied with their work, they joined back with Evan and the three of them rapid fired explosion curses on the floor beneath, causing it to crack and fall down. The three Unspeakables landed down on the room inside, their impedimenta charms stopping their fall effectively.

The room was completely empty.

Evan immediately activated his mage-sight and found seven people hiding behind the massive stone pillars that effectively supported the ceiling.

"There are people hidden here." He whispered over the mic.

Wands at the ready, the group of three separated out, ready to begin firing at the slightest movement. The room stood completely silent before a couple of tin cans were thrown into the center of the room from almost nowhere. The cans suddenly exploded with the force of a small bomb and filled the room with dense smoke.

Immediately curses began to fly from different corners of the room. A purple curse flew high and hit on Alex's arm, who dropped down in pain, his cry almost limited to a painful whimper. Evan and Devin threw up powerful shields and began casting wide-area curses, hoping to catch at least one of them by surprise.

The group divided soon as Devin found himself dueling a rather large looking man, who appeared Bulgarian from his appearance, and was quite a skilled fighter, as it seemed. The man was bent on using high-powered explosive curses that sent Devin on the defensive, while trying to throw in some offensive curses back. Alex being wounded had to take up shelter behind a pillar as Clare appeared from outside and took his place, fighting another tall rugged man who wore a hood. The man appeared to be highly versatile in conjuring, as Clare had to sidestep javelins and knives repeatedly as the man kept on firing them at her.

The strangest of the three however, was a woman. A brown-haired woman with hazel eyes, the rest of her face hidden behind a purple scarf was the one dueling Evan. She rapidly cursed and countered back Evan's curses with no less than equal power. Evan found himself dodging repeatedly as he found himself in the face of a volley of dark curses.

 _So you want to play bad, is it?_

Evan let the kid gloves off and started firing from his own arsenal of dark and highly questionable spells. The purple trail of the entrails-expelling curse almost filled the space between the two fighters, considering how frequently it was cast back and forth between the two opponents. Evan tossed, weaved, and sent out repeated bursts of energy, only to find the woman using her highly lithe figure to dance her way through the curses. Finally, he had enough and sent out a powerful Legilimency foray along with his energy burst, only to be shocked to his core.

The Legilimency foray hit the woman, only to be deflected back from some surprisingly powerful shields that arose out of nowhere. It was simply impossible since Evan had felt his foray breaking through the Occlumency shields of the woman just seconds ago.

 _Those are not natural shields._

The woman seemed to be getting more and more frustrated with time, her wand movements becoming more and more erratic with her power levels in complete disarray. It was almost as if her power was constantly in a state of flux. It was so similar to something Evan had experienced the previous year.

Evan took advantage of the situation and rapidly fired out an overpowered energy wave. He even supplied a little of his elemental power into it. The wave struck a very powerful shield that the woman had hastily conjured up and held it back, when suddenly the shield vanished as of it was not there at all in the first place. The energy wave hit the woman and blasted her off to the wall, where she fell with a resounding thug.

 _That was strange!_

Evan wanted to go and capture her but Clare clearly needed help and as such, he focused back on helping her. Conjuring a rather large hippogriff, he let it on towards Clare's opponent who was surprised, getting an attack on two fronts. The man hastily conjured javelins and killed the hippogriff but never saw the Everbero that came from Clare's wand. The powerful bludgeoner hit him hard and blasted him off the floor.

Evan took this opportunity to race to the woman who was slowly trying to get up. He conjured a fire whip and lashed it towards the woman, a rather good attempt at trying to hold her back. What he never expected was the woman to smirk at him as an energy vortex sucked her in and she vanished off.

 _An illusionist? That damnable woman is a fucking Illusionist?_

The sounds of spell fire shook him out of his thoughts. Evan criticized himself mentally. Day dreaming in the middle of the fight was a sure way to die. He saw the two rogues fall down on the floor as Mark had arrived from somewhere and broke some of their bones, causing them to lurch and fall down in pain. The rest of the people either had vanished off, or had died. Binding the two rogues with high-powered binding charms, the group portkeyed back to the base.

* * *

"Good job, everyone! And well done!" Matthews congratulated them. "Those who need some healing please go see the healers immediately." The entire group save Evan departed away.

"Evan!" Matthews called.

"Yes sir?"

"Devin told me that you were a bit... flustered in the middle of the fight. What had happened?"

"I... It's a bit personal, sir."

Matthews eyed him peculiarly. "Please take care that your personal matters do not hamper your next mission. And on that record, well done. You proved yourself to your team. Devin has already asked that you should be added to the further missions we assign him."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now then, I suppose you have to return back to your... Residence?"

Evan nodded.

"Very well... Off you go."

Evan whispered something, and with a flash of light, he popped away.

* * *

 **### Okay, so that ends the chapter. Wanted some unspeakable screen-space so figured that this could be a suitable diversion from the disarray at Hogwarts. How do you like it? I know I am not uploading the chapters with even half of my original speed. If it helps, working on two chapters takes a considerable time and effort and besides, I have been awfully busy for the last couple of weeks. Anyway, I am not abandoning this story; rather if anything, I am optimistic that this BOOK 2 will be done with by the second half of February. I have even decided on the name of the third book of the Chronicles saga, 'DESTINY AND DOOM'. Like it? Do tell.**

 **And yeah some people will be happy to find that I finally have an excellent beta who is highly efficient at what she does. So slowly but steadily, I shall be clearing out the intangible messes that I left behind in my initial chapters. If its any worth, perhaps after a month or something, my readers could have a re-read of the story right from the beginning. You might discover something new! :D**

 **Anyways, enough of the blabbering. Hope you like the chapter and of course, review, review, review...**

 **Thanks everyone.**


	85. Chapter 85 : Changing times

The almost dilapidated room at Wilkshire was suddenly ablaze with a wild wave of energy as an energy portal appeared out of nowhere and down fell a brown-haired woman on the hard wooden floor. The planks groaned, accompanying the sudden thud, and that was enough to scare some of the rats that went scurrying away from the room. The woman picked herself up somehow, but unfortunately, her strength gave away as she dropped down again, her consciousness fading off.

An hour passed before mild movements began and after a couple of minutes, Hermione Granger returned to consciousness. Pulling herself up, not an easy task considering how every bone in her lithe body was groaning in pain; she was able to take some support from the rickety old chair next to her. Standing up successfully, she landed herself gently on the shredded mattress that lay on the wooden bed. Wondering not for the first time why she had chosen such a place for a contingency plan, she shook her head in confusion. The memories of the events slowly returning to her, she could not help but feel elated and worried at the same time. Elated because of the thrill she had experienced while facing those hooded fighters, and worried because of the deadly skill and magical prowess of those fighters.

Especially the one she was fighting.

The man, around six feet all, hooded and wearing those gray robes, and frighteningly quick with a wand. Hermione was lucky that she had decided to go for a glamour, assuring that no one would be able to recognize her. Nevertheless, that man, his prowess scared her. It had taken her ritual after ritual along with strenuous training in all kinds of forbidden knowledge to get where she was right now. But that man, he was still able to best her. Borgin would not be happy to know that the deal was botched.

Hermione sighed.

She would have to somehow manipulate Borgin and make him give her more missions. It was her bread and butter after all.

"I can't believe that after five successful missions, the sixth one would get doomed in failure." She muttered to herself. Packing her baggage, she opened up another energy portal and vanished away.

It was only after twenty minutes that rats began to scurry across the room again.

* * *

"So let me get this straight. You went on your first Unspeakable Mission and faced an Illusionist?" Salazar questioned a rather irate teen in front of him.

"Yes." Harry gritted his teeth. "And she was good. Very good. Her Occlumency shields were... _unnaturally_ powerful, and she seemed to be decent with a wand as well. Whatever her shortcomings were with a wand, the power behind her attacks was enough to balance for it."

"Unnaturally powerful?" Salazar questioned.

"Yes. I had sent a Legilimency foray that straight away blasted through her shields. Then, a second pair of shields rose out of nowhere and deflected my attack away. It was strange." Harry explained. His eyes went up to his mentor's face, which had turned uncharacteristically pale.

"Sec- second pair of shields?"

"Yes, what is so scary about it?" Harry queried his face adopting a distasteful expression.

"My father, Erebus Slytherin also had such shields. It was simply undefeatable. Even the dark lord Orion was unable to pass through them."

Harry blinked.

Pause.

"Excuse me, what?"

Salazar smirked. "Even the dark lord Orion was unable to pass through my father's shields. His shields were simply, unbreakable."

"There is no such thing such as unbreakable. You yourself taught me that." Harry countered.

"And have I taught you about Occlumency shielding?" Salazar countered back.

"Occlumency shields are different from normal shields. A normal shield takes the attack at face value. An Occlumency shield is opposite. It takes an attack and disperses it throughout itself. Until the attack is powerful enough to disperse the entire shield in one go, the shield hold on." Harry repeated automatically.

"Correct. Now would you agree that every Occlumency shield, no matter the wizard has its own threshold value, which remains constant? An energy value to the limit of which it can hold back Legilimency attacks?"

Harry nodded.

"Now think of a shield which has the ability to dip into the Legilimency attack itself, and repair itself. In essence, what the shield does is simply-"

"Reflecting the Legilimency attack itself without sparing any energy at all." Harry finished from him, his face horrified at the revelation.

"Precisely."

"Is that even possible?"

"It is. You yourself saw it firsthand."

"But... but how?"

Salazar let out a deep sigh. "My father created a ritual from scratch and added it to the book he created later on in his life. The Secrets of the Darkest Art. Orion believed that the unnatural shields were a result of some obscure ritual."

"So, that means the woman must have - hang on! You mean to say, that woman was...Hermione?"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was defeated. He knew it. His enemies knew it. His friends knew it. Harry Potter knew it. He had ignored everyone's advice and employed a man despite knowing that he was a death-eater. All of his friends and colleagues were against his decision but Albus had been adamant about it. He had been arrogant enough to believe that no one was looking at the greater picture. Thus, he had hired Severus Snape.

A knock came on the office door.

Albus sighed. He had dillydallied long enough. It was time to face the consequences at face value.

Minerva Mcgonagall and Filius Flitwick entered the office. The veteran old Scott and the half-goblin wore weary expressions and Albus could see a shadow of relief pass their faces when they had entered the office. He mused that it was because of the fact that he had opened the office door finally.

"Are you done hiding in your office, Albus?" Minerva asked coldly.

Albus did not answer. Minerva continued. "Ever since Snape was arrested by the Aurors, the school has been in a state of complete chaos. And the Headmaster himself is hiding in his little office."

"You cannot hate me more than myself. I have taken so many wrong decisions in my life so far, I cannot even begin to fathom them. To think that I hired such a... Abomination as a professor is... unforgivable." He looked up at the old Transfiguration professor. "Minerva, you have told me countless times about the way Severus had been bullying students over the years, but never did I take your concerns seriously. For what it is worth, I am sorry."

"You can get your forgiveness later on Albus. For the moment, we need the Headmaster back. So get your sorry arse out of that chair and tackle the situation," the old professor continued with her face straight and doing her best to ignore the sharp looks of surprise Filius was giving her. "I am calling the entire school to the Great Hall. Bring yourself there. I am calling in the rest of the staff." Looking at Filius, she nodded.

"I better go inform my Claws." Filius added, as the duo left the office.

* * *

The Hall was swarming with people. It was the first time that the entire student and staff attended in the Great Hall, apart from the time of the Feasts. Every student was there, sitting in his or her respective houses. Harry had joined Neville and joined the Gryffindor table, while Daphne and the rest of the group sat in their table. Susan was still absent, and to be honest, Harry could not care less about her.

Minerva Mcgonagall walked up in the center of the room, right in front of the staff table, facing the students. Her wand quickly up to cast a Sonorous, she began. "As is my power as the Deputy Headmistress of this institution, I have called for this compulsory meeting to put an end to the ongoing chaotic scenario at Hogwarts. I have a few things to say but before everything else, I believe our esteemed Headmaster has a few words."

Harry looked up in surprise to find the old Headmaster stand up from his chair.

 _So, he did come out of his office, finally._

"Students, it is a grave event that Hogwarts has faced recently, and as Headmaster, I believe that I am to be held responsible for the events." He looked up at the surprised faces of his fellow colleagues but continued, "It was my lack of foresight that I hired someone like Severus Snape for the post of potions master for these hallowed halls. I know that he had a history of bullying non-Slytherins and I also accept that I have been... lax in curbing his behavior."

Mcgonagall rolled her eyes. Lax? Albus had totally ignored her when she had raised issues against Snape all these years. Albus Dumbledore continued, "As my colleagues have pointed it out as well, I believe I should pay for my shortcomings. Hence, effectively immediately, I am resigning from my post as Headmaster at Hogwarts-" the great Hall had sunk into sounds of anxious whispers- Dumbledore continued, "And I am voting Minerva Mcgonagall as the next Headmistress of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Minerva Mcgonagall was shocked. She had never expected this coming. For Albus Dumbledore to say all of that- it was simply inexplicable. She stood up, and tried to counter, but the words refused to come up from her mouth. She just stood, gaping at the turn of events.

"As for me, I believe it has been many decades since I retired myself from teaching, but given the circumstances, I believe I will be taking up the post of Transfiguration professor if the Headmistress will have my services." He glanced at Minerva who nodded subtly. Looking back towards the multitude of students, he bowed slightly and spoke, "Thank you all." He quickly stepped down and sat back in the staff table.

Harry was surprised. No scratch that, he was completely shocked. Albus Dumbledore had openly accepted his mistake and had stepped down as Headmaster to leave the position to Mcgonagall. It was ironic that in all the time he had known the Headmaster, this was the first time that the venerable wizard had shown himself as humane and prone to mistakes just like any other.

* * *

"Potter?"

Harry looked up to see Mcgonagall standing beside him. Her face held an odd expression. "Yes, professor?"

"The Headmaster asked me to give you this." She replied, handing out a piece of parchment. Harry took it. It was a missive from the Headmaster, asking him to meet him in his office. Harry nodded at the soon-to-be Headmistress who gave a head jerk before leaving him with his friends.

"Excuse me, guys!" Harry apologized before skipping off to the Headmaster's office.

* * *

"Ah Harry, please come in." Dumbledore replied, the usual jolly nature absent in his voice.

"I got your note, professor." Harry intoned, keeping his tone mild, knowing that the Headmaster was very depressed due to the happenings. Dumbledore sat behind the desk, his hands folded with his chin resting on his fingers. "There are certain issues I need to talk with you about."

"I have taken a lot of time to think about what happened the other day, Harry, and I have come to one prime conclusion. Severus Snape acted under the effects of some kind of illusion and I believe that it was you that caused it."

Harry's face turned rigid and cold as he observed the Headmaster with narrowed eyes. "Still throwing stones in the dark, Headmaster?"

"No. This time I know what is ahead of me, and interestingly, I believe I should do two things. The first being thanking you and the next being asking your forgiveness."

"Whatever do you mean, Headmaster?"

"I need to thank you for your contribution in exposing my folly in hiring Severus as a professor all those years back, and I need to ask for your forgiveness because of my short-sightedness. Ever since you have ventured into the arcane arts, I have always treated you with suspicion. I now see that I was wrong."

Harry did not reply.

"You may go, Harry. And for what it is worth, I am indeed sorry for my behavior so far."

Harry nodded subtly, before turning around and leaving the office.

* * *

 **Two weeks later...**

Fleur was the happiest person on earth. Not only had she enjoyed a whole day on a date with Harry, but also additionally, Daphne had officially invited her to spend the day with them. The trio had a load of fun in Hogsmeade. A light breakfast at the three Broomsticks had been followed by a enjoyable picnic near the Shrieking shack. The two girls had done their best to embarrass Harry by asking him to have lunch at Madam Puddifoots, and she would have to hand it over to the boy, that despite his embarrassment, Harry had been a perfect gentleman throughout the lunch. Considering how much Daphne had tried to embarrass him, Fleur felt that Harry deserved a bit of...consolation in return. The passionate moments she had spent kissing her friend had left him completely off-guard and the boy had a shit-eating grin on his face. Fleur had thought that Daphne would have been jealous and angry with her kissing Harry, but the girl had taken it all as good sport. The passionate snog Daphne had had with her betrothed for the next one hour might have had something to do with it. Overall, it was her most memorable day ever since coming to Hogwarts.

"Daphne?" she turned to face her nemesis-turned ally.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you...angry?"

"At what?"

"You know what!"

"About you and Harry?"

"What else?"

Daphne mused for a moment. "Truth be told, I would love nothing more than having Harry all to myself for all eternity. However, I have seen how much happiness your presence gives him. I may be his betrothed, but you and he... you both connect on an entirely different level... something that Harry and I might never share..." Daphne almost shed a tear, "but nothing can be done about it. Harry is happy, and hence I am happy."

"Daphne, I-" Fleur tried, but words failed her.

"It's okay, I understand." Daphne smiled. Her inner struggle distinct in her eyes, "and I am truly happy. Besides, it's all for Harry, isn't it?"

Fleur nodded with a smile. "For Harry."

* * *

The second task for the Triwizard Tournament was approaching near. Now that January was almost at an end, Harry decided that he should concentrate enough for his second task. He had tried nearly almost everything. The egg simply gave out shrieks. He had tried applying spells on it, tried applying finite charms and a hell lot of other tricks. Now there was only one single thought that was left untried.

Trying to understand what the voices were trying to tell him.

 _I guess I should stop trying out things and get back to the old way of finding out stuff._

 **Three hours later in the library...**

"I am an idiot, that's what I am!" Harry chastised himself, "to think that the answer was here all along." He looked back at the page in front of him.

 **Mermen are the most fantastic musicians and singers of the magical world. However, that said, the exquisite nature of their music can only be understood below water. Above water however, their music is converted magically into high frequency shrieks, which are comparable to the cry of a mandrake and quite enough to send a person into unconsciousness, or rather dumb if exposed for a longer duration.**

"This is it. This must be it. The music of a merman, heard above water. I need to listen to it below water."

Ten minutes later, Harry sat alone in the Room of requirement, which had provided him with a decent sized pool inside it. Submerging the egg into the pool, he shed off his clothes and jumped into it after the egg. Deep inside the waters, he opened the lid, readying himself for another shriek. What he got instead was-

" _ **Come seek us where our voices sound,  
We cannot sing above the ground,  
And while you're searching ponder this:  
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,  
An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took,  
But past an hour — the prospect's black,  
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."**_

Harry got out of the water, his entire body drenched with one single thought swirling in his mind.

"Daphne!"

* * *

 **### Umm! Hi guys! Nice to be back uploading chapters of my very first story. Now I know this chapter is quite small, but I needed to finish the touch-ups for some points before beginning something worth a big chapter. Next chapter brings the second task to the stage. I hope this chapter will convince my readers that I have not abandoned my story.**

 **Well that is all. Please enjoy and review. Something other than along the lines of- "Holy shit! Peverell has not abandoned this story!"**


	86. Chapter 86

**I had analyzed this story at length and found out that there were too many entanglements and elements which I had introduced in a myriad of ways that were making the story a clutter. I tried to sort them into a proper rewritten version but things were turning out to very, very different from what the original WC had been. That said, the original WC had too many clichés (as many readers had initially pointed out). hence, I decided to come up with an altered version of the story, which hopefully will be very, very different while still retaining the universe and the characters that I had created in the tale.**

 **Hence, with great pleasure, I wish to introduce DESTINY AND DOOM: A CHRONICLE OF MAGIC. I hope this story will be a good replacement of the original WC, which I am as of this moment, placing upon HIATUS. In case I change my mind later, I will continue to add upon this story. I would be grateful if you favorite and follow this new story and read it. After all, all of this is being done because my readers were not getting any updates from Wizarding Chronicles over the long term.**

 **Thank you.**


End file.
